Chapter Text
Maw Walker. A shiver of awe and anxiety both ran through Luthir at the sound of the name. So the Champion of Azeroth had won an even more grandiose, new title. He or she (there were myriad different reports circulating regarding the identity of the hero and the faction leaders weren’t eager to dispel those; for safety purposes) was the lone survivor of the Knights of the Ebon Blade’s attempted rescue mission. Or… no. Survivor was the wrong word. The Maw Walker wasn’t the only person still (un)alive who had set out on the mission, but the only one who had yet managed to escape whereto they had traveled: that ominous place on the other side of the Veil between life and death, which had been the destination of the Death Knight’s portal and whereto King Anduin Wrynn, Lady Jaina Proudmore, Thrall and Baine Bloodhoof had been taken.
“According to the Maw Walker’s report, the Shadowlands are formed by countless different… realms to which the souls of the dead are usually guided. This system has been broken, though. Currently all souls flow to one place only: the Maw. Itis a grim place of torment, intended for irredeemable souls and swarming with an undead army against which the Scourge pales,” the Magister’s voice rang out clear and loud over the heads of the void elves.
Earlier this week, Umbric and Alleria Windrunner, the co-leaders of the ren’dorei, had received new information about the status of the rescue mission from Highlord Bolvar Fordragon. They had by now decided to pass it on to their people; or at least to those currently present in Telogrus Rift.
Influenced by the grim news the Magister announced, the usually cozy and trusting atmosphere of the void-scarred landscape had regained some of its original eeriness. Luthir actually flinched when an unusually widespread, blue-white lightning flashed across the black and purple sky directly above the floating island, suddenly illuminating the group of mainly scientists standing outside the communal tent on the bleak rock. The Priest spotted several of his colleagues whose gazes glazed over for a brief moment; not out of disinterest but because they embraced the ren’endal to protect themselves from being overwhelmed by the whispers of the Void. Of course, those thrived on feelings awakened by such unsettling tidings.
“In charge of this dark realm but also locked up thereis the one we’ve already heard of as the Banished One and who is otherwise know as the Jailer. He seeks to break free from the Maw, a goal for which to accomplish Sylvanas Windrunner has teamed up with this… entity,” the Magister explained further.
Luthir literally hung on Umbric’s every word. Not that this was something unusual. As he was thoroughly in love with the charismatic Mage, who also happened to be his mentor, the Priest tended to always pay full attention to everything the man said. This time was different, though. For once, the words of the man didn’t inspire mainly positive feelings in him, but he still didn’t want to miss a single one of them.
“After the narrow escape from the Maw, our champion met some friendly beings native to the Shadowlands. Those sent the Maw Walker onward to a place called Bastion. There, our hero investigated further those dark winged creatures in league with the Jailer who abducted our leaders and seem able to freely move between the realms of the living and the dead.”
Umbric’s summary of the Maw Walker’s report went on for minutes, accompanied by skillfully conjured illusions, illustrating his descriptions of the land and people. It contained so much overwhelming information, the Priest wasn’t able to memorize everything. Bastion was indeed inhabited by winged creatures, although these kyrian – tasked with ferrying the souls of mortals to the Shadowlands – looked different from the hijackers. But then again, there seemed to be a rebellion going on and some of the so called Forsworn, with darkened wings instead of the usual white ones, had indeed displayed powers associated with the Maw.
While listening, Luthir alternately poked his thumbs at his chin and then pressed the sides of his index fingers against his lips. A low giggle escaped him as he suddenly became aware of his pose. To somebody watching him, he probably looked as if he was in prayer with his thus folded hands. But that was something that would never happen again, not even while he was being told about a potentially world ending threat. Oh no. His family and their behavior had ensured that.
Nonetheless, he pointedly lowered his arms, instead folding them in front of his chest and had a quick look at the people around him. Thankfully only the female ren’dorei next to him seemed to have noticed the temporary digress of his attention.
Meeting his gaze, Thinnadis inquiringly lifted one of her always perfectly styled magenta eyebrows at him. Obviously she was curious about the cause for his inappropriate amusement during the serious briefing.
Luthir only shook his head. Not the right time nor person to explain his train of thought. Not that he didn’t like the other void elf. Quite the contrary. Thinnadis was one of the scientific luminaries the ren’dorei had apart from Magister Umbric and one of his best friends. She knew about his past with the Heirs of the Holy Light and they had talked about his childhood before. During those occasions, though, the Priest had also learned that the Warlock’s attitude toward the events involving the cult differed highly from his own.
Although there were surprising parallels between his personal history and the one of the Warlock, Thinnadis’ rebellion against the customs of her upbringing had gone much further than his. He had only dipped his toes into shadow magic back then, while she had not only embraces those studies, but had expanded them toward fel magic. Despite knowing that this in itself was just as little evil as void magic was, Luthir didn’t like to think about what could have become of him if he had chosen her path instead.
He turned his attention back to his mentor.
“Following further clues, the Maw Walker has by now traveled onward to another realm of the Shadowlands, called Maldraxxus,” the Magister paused, having reached a breaking point in his oration. “Some of you probably ask yourselves why I’m telling you all of this. I’m not usually known to go around announcing news of the world to everybody.” There were some agreeing murmurs and chuckles from the audience, before Umbric went on: “Due to the superior tasks they pursue, the Maw Walker was forced to move on and leave behind many unanswered questions concerning this realm called Bastion. Yet at this point, we ren’dorei have another chance to demonstrate our worth to the world and especially the Alliance. There is something concerning this realm of the dead that is asking for our expertise in particular. Alleria and I have already offered to Regent Turalyon to take the matter in hand: at some point in the past, the Void seems to have had a special interest in Bastion and has invaded the realm.”
Immediately following this announcement, excited whispers rose in the audience. Luthir shared the feeling. His previous tension and unease were swept away by a wave of curiosity and confidence. The Void was able to breach into the afterlife? Why were this Bastion or the kyrian important to it? Up to this point, the place beyond the Veil had seemed utterly foreign and filled with troubles exceeding his power, but the Void was something he knew how to handle. He swiftly glanced at Thinnadis, but instead of signs of excitement, a deep frown furrowed her forehead. He just wanted to ask her about it when Magister Umbric’s voice redirected his attention back to the front.
“The exact reason for the Void’s foray into Bastion is unknown, but your current reaction shows that you, my colleagues, are as aware as I of the implications this singular fact suggests. The Void’s presence – or at least former presence – in the Shadowlands may not yet be of high importance to the current events concerning our abducted leaders. I’m convinced, though, that in the future, this mystery will help us understand the things askew now happening beyond the veil. Do you share my opinion? Isn’t it our duty as ren’dorei to relieve our allies of this burden, so they can focus on the more immediate tasks at hand? Are you willing to investigate the motives of the Void with me?”
“Yes!” Luthir’s approving outcry wasn’t the only one ringing out from the crowd, but definitely one of the first that inspired others to follow suit.
The Magister looked clearly pleased by their reaction and the gleam in his eyes aroused a renewed tinge of affection for the other void elf in Luthir. He knew Umbric well enough to recognize the love for his work and his people in that expression. He was simply honored to be part of it.
“Then, my friends, I ask you to make arrangements. Over the duration of the next week, try to bring your ongoing research to an end or to a point from where you can take it up later on. Until then, Alleria and I will plan our approach and clarify the circumstances. Be prepared to invest all of your time into the investigation of this new project after that. Thank you for your attention and support.”
With that, the Magister stepped off the small pedestal in front of the communal tent… and was of course immediately swarmed by his colleagues who were hoping to learn more details. Luthir doubted they would succeed. Not even he as Umbric’s assistant and confidant had known the exact content of the speech beforehand. He had noticed that his mentor was especially excited about this Bastion, but hadn’t been able to tease the full reason for it out of the man. The chance that the Mage would now give up more information to other people was slim.
“Damn it. Looks like the relaxing times will soon be over,” the smokey, echoing voice of his Warlock friend sighed, “Umbric has a new pet project and of course he’s going to force us all in on it.”
Luthir’s immediate urge was to defend his mentor. This wasn’t just an egoistic decision by the Magister, but one he had the right to make as their people’s leader. But the Priest also knew the reason for Thinnadis’ bitterness. She and Umbric had a very tense relationship. Luthir was thankful the woman hadn’t simply tossed him in with his mentor in that regard but instead was pointing her aversion solely against the older void elf. Otherwise he would have been robbed of her precious friendship.
Back before their exile from Silvermoon, the two scientists had both pursued their own research of the Void, without much interaction. While the Mage had always been interested in the broad usage of Void magic, the Warlock had focused on potential minions that could control its powers and in turn be made to serve. When Umbric had been confronted by the sin’dorei authority and threatened with treason for his experiments with the Void, he had understandably grasped at every straw to save his work. Umbric had referred to Thinnadis’ research in hopes of avoiding punishment as she had so far, instead he had involved her in the purge and Thinnadis had eventually been exiled together with them. She had never forgiven Umbric for this, despite working with him over the past years.
“I think you’re judging him prematurely on this,” Luthir interjected nonetheless, but softly. “He indeed has asked us all to halt our research, but that doesn’t necessarily mean we’ll all be assigned to the new project. It would rather surprise me, to be honest. Even if Bastion is as high priority as he made it sound, we still have ongoing projects that are vital to our people. I don’t expect him to halt those, too. Not long-term at least. I believe he just hasn’t yet decided who will join Team Bastion and wants to prevent any delays for as soon as he’s done planning.”
The Warlock shrugged her narrow shoulders, turning her back toward the group surrounding the Magister and instead facing the silver haired Priest. “Perhaps. Doesn’t change the fact that my interest in the Void is slowly but steadily sated. For the next few centuries that is. Maybe it’s finally time for me to leave this farm of blueberries and find my own garden.”
Luthir gave a little snort at her usage of the twee label some of their allies but also enemies had dubbed the ren’dorei with. They weren’t all blue! While Thinnadis’ complexion actually was of an intense bluish violet, he kinda liked his own pale skin color. Others had brownish or pink skin tones without any hint of the Void’s corruption. Only an Entropic Embrace temporarily wrapped a ren’dorei in shades of blue and black.But then again, blueberries tasted absolutely delicious, so he didn’tmind being compared to one. The Warlock’s threat, however,made his heart sink.
“Don’t do that! I’d miss you dearly,” he exclaimed in shock.
“That’s charming of you,” she tilted her head at him and grinned, “Well, maybe I’ll stay for the moment. But if he’s forcing us to travel to the land of the dead… I’m out.” She snappishly brushed back her wavy hair that had fallen over her shoulder with her previous movement. “Those… kyrian… they’re called, right? They look terribly boring and demure. Rules, rules, rules. Oh no, I wouldn’t survive that.”
“You’re exaggerating. We don’t know enough of how they are yet… or-,” he pointed out, but was interrupted.
“Bah. Just look at them. You know, that’s the beautiful thing about that directportal to Stormwind here: free dicks and pussies at arm’s reach. I’d miss thoseeither way.” She laughed huskily.
Luthir chuckled, blushing slightly. Of course that was what had her in such revolt. “I still believe you’re worrying too soon. There wasn’t anything said about us traveling there.”
The Warlock didn’t listen, though, musing about possible solutions to the approaching misery.
“I guess, I could go and pre-compensate,” she bit her dark cherry lips. “Oh yes, I’ll definitely do that. Are you joining me? I’m sure I could find a cute guy for you if you’re too shy to try yourself,” she teased with a wink.
“Um, thanks. I’ll pass,” Luthir promptly refused her offer, albeit he well appreciated it at least partially. However, he wasn’t planning on leaving Telogrus Rift during the next hours. If anything, the Magister’s announcement only instilled some slight disappointment in him as he would have to abandon his own experiment. His Void-infused embryos had been developing nicely. It would be sad to freeze them again for an unknown time.
“A shame,” the female void elf commented, appearing truly unhappy about being bereft of his company for the blink of an eye. “Well, in that case I’m off… and hopefully soon neck deep between at least one beautifully formed pair of thighs.”
“Enjoy!” he hesitated, “And take care of yourself, yes?” After all, there were diseases that posed a risk if you didn’t know your partners well, regardless of gender.
“Of course, deary. I’ve been doing this for a long time already even before you were born.”
He blushed. Sometimes he forgot how old Thinnadis was in between her often times juvenile behavior.
“But I do appreciate your concern.” She stepped close, brushing a short kiss against his cheek, before she turned and rushed off, her magenta hair with the tentacles between its strands flowing behind her.
Luthir was still shaking his head in amusement as he set off toward the tent complex that included his laboratory. Even though Thinnadis’ appetite for the exploration of the Void seemed to have been sated quickly in comparison, her appetite for people most certainly wasn’t. Since their transformation into ren’dorei, it only seemed to have grown. Especially on days of leisure, she rarely spent a night in Telogrus Rift, instead staying in Stormwind and its environs. After their affiliation with the Alliance, she had soon become acquainted with all the right places where people looking for entertainment gathered. She had a gift for that. Back in Silvermoon, it had been her who had, after his coming of age, introduced him to like-minded – like-tasted? – people in various bars and other places of respite. After his initial curiosity had been satisfied, Luthir had soon noticed that he – unlike the Warlock – wasn’t the type for a... nomadic lifestyle in that regard. However, Thinnadis had never stopped asking him whether he wanted to join her during her nights out, although he accompanied her only rarely.
Well, thinking of it, maybe he hadn’t been totally honest with himself before. Umbric’s announcement of the upcoming project did affect his own... appetites to some degree. Deep down, Luthir was starting to worry he might have missed his window of opportunity with the Magister once again. Now that the news about the Shadowlands were in, it would become all the harder to arouse the incorrigible workaholic’s interest for anything else than his studies.
After reaching his destination, Luthir let the tent flap of the entrance to his laboratory fall shut behind himself in a far darker mood than before his considerations.
Why had he waited so long? Weeks over weeks had passed since N’Zoth’s defeat and even after the shattering of the Helm of Domination, the life of the ren’dorei had remained rather uneventful. He had had plenty of opportunities to finally avow his feelings to the Magister or at least approach him. Of course, there had been his own studies and… and…. Luthir didn’t truly know what had discouraged him. If he ever wanted to realize his hopes and dreams, though, he would have to act quickly now.
The Priest let his gaze wander over his work with its numerous documents and instruments spread all over the place. Quickly didn’t mean immediately. Currently Umbric was most likely still besieged by his colleagues anyway. Luthir also needed to establish order here if he was supposed to put his work on ice soon – quite literally.
–.o.O.o.–
Luthir was still busy sorting out his research notes when a familiar figure poked their head through the entry of the tent. “My, my! Hello Saewron. I didn’t expect you of all people.”
Even before the Rogue could step fully inside the room, a small ball of fur brushed past his legs. Tulu yapped excitedly, charging directly at the Priest.
“Hey girl!” he crouched down delightedly, mindless of his robes spreading on the ground around him, “And hello to you, too.” He gave the coat of the fox, which had switched from its usual purple to the shining golden color in a heartbeat, a thorough ruffling.
The small animal acknowledged the caresses by licking his hands and wagging her tail like mad, almost delirious with joy. She had never forgotten that he had been the one who had found her and had nursed her back to health, although she was devoted to her current master. Speaking of which.
Luthir stood once more, leaving Tulu to her exploration of the tent and examined the navy haired void elf. He did look haler than last time. After the second scolding, the Rogue seemed to have taken his words to heart.
Saewron smiled diffidently. “Sorry for crashing in on you unannounced. Although,” the corners of his mouth twitched, “It can’t be that bad, as you didn’t burst into a cloud of shadowy dust.”
Luthir laughed. “Oh, spare me. How often did that happen? Once? Maybe twice?”
“More like three times at the very least,” the Rogue corrected with a grin.
“Well, if it had happened again this time, I would’ve had every right! What brings you here? Usually you send a note before gracing me with your company.” The Priest hastily saved some papers from Tulu’s curiously poking snout and frowned as a possible explanation crossed his mind. “In case you were hoping to catch the news, I’m afraid you arrived a few hours too late.”
Saewron’s expression quickly grew serious again. “It has to do with the news, yes. But I didn’t need to hear it from the Magister. Naethir already told me everything. He and the other Death Knights got it directly from Highlord Fordragon.” He wrung his hands and took a breath. “I’m here to say farewell. We’re going to the Shadowlands.”
“What?!” Luthir nearly dropped the gathered notes in his hands in surprise. “Why?! When?”
The Rogue made a face. “Tomorrow morning. That’s why I came here directly.”
Now the Priest was at a loss for words, something that didn’t happen often. He couldn’t even fathom why he was so shocked. Of course he hadn’t anticipated it, but still. Maybe it was because Saewron was the second friend who was announcing his sudden departure today and unlike his, Thinnadis’ remark had only been an early warning.
“Naethir and I have been discussing it back and forth since yesterday,” Saewron explained, taking his silence as invitation. “It was tearing him apart. He feels he absolutely has to go there and do something, now that so many Death Knight’s are trapped in the Maw, but he also didn’t want to leave me behind. So… I’m going with him. I know it’s a little sudden, but I can’t let him go alone. Not after what he told me.”
Luthir wasn’t sure what his friend meant by that, but something else he had just remembered was more important. “I see. But isn’t the portal to… this city in the Shadowlands currently only open for diplomats and the like? Does your brother know that?”
“Yes,” the Rogue nodded, “But since he officially still holds one of the highest ranks among the Ebon Blade, he thinks they’ll either just let him pass or he can pull rank on the soldiers surveying the portal.”
“And you?”
“I’ll pose as his bodyguard. I still think it was an utter farce; but that mission to escort Lady Proudmoore to Kul Tiras I did back in the beginning of the Fourth War will come in handy to explain my presence if necessary.”
“So, it’s only the two of you? But...,” Luthir hesitated, rearranging some of the glass dishes and jars on the shelf in front of him, only to buy some time. He didn’t want to sound rude. Then again, he was talking to Saewron. The emphatic Rogue would understand why he was asking. If one wasn’t a titan and Old God slaying hero like the Maw Walker, there was only so much normal folk like them could do.
“Do you think the pair of you will be able to achieve anything to help? I mean, there is a hole in the sky and some eternal being seeks to break free of its prison.”
The leather clad void elf shrugged calmly, as hoped not taking the question amiss. He absentmindedly traced the hilt of one of the daggers fixed to his belt with a finger. “We’ll have to be careful. We’re aware of our limits. We’ll go to this Bastion first and see if we can help its denizens, so they’ll hopefully help us later on in turn.”
“Don’t you want to travel with us then? Well, I don’t know who us is exactly going to be, but I’m pretty sure Umbric will send a delegation of void elves to Bastion soon.”
Saewron shook his head. “Thanks for the offer. Even if I could convince Naethir to wait until then, we probably wouldn’t stay with you anyway. There seem to be several realms in the afterlife. Depending on the Maw Walker’s travels, we’ll move on to others later on.”
“So… that’s it?”
The Rogue spread his arms in an awkward gesture, confirming the farewell.
Luthir quickly stepped up to him, taking the opportunity to pull the other void elf into a hearty embrace.
Saewron seemed a bit taken by surprise at first, but then returned it.
“Take care of yourself, yes? Both of you!”
A strange expression crossed the Rogue’s features, one that didn’t correspond to the faint color that had spread on his cheeks, but it was gone quickly and he smiled. “I won’t promise anything, but we’ll tread warily.”
“That’s all I’m asking. Shorel’aran, friend.”
And with that, the Rogue – promptly followed by the purple fox – stepped out of the tent, leaving Luthir to his work once more.
Maw Walker. A shiver of awe and anxiety both ran through Luthir at the sound of the name. So the Champion of Azeroth had won an even more grandiose, new title. He or she (there were myriad different reports circulating regarding the identity of the hero and the faction leaders weren’t eager to dispel those; for safety purposes) was the lone survivor of the Knights of the Ebon Blade’s attempted rescue mission. Or… no. Survivor was the wrong word. The Maw Walker wasn’t the only person still (un)alive who had set out on the mission, but the only one who had yet managed to escape whereto they had traveled: that ominous place on the other side of the Veil between life and death, which had been the destination of the Death Knight’s portal and whereto King Anduin Wrynn, Lady Jaina Proudmore, Thrall and Baine Bloodhoof had been taken.
“According to the Maw Walker’s report, the Shadowlands are formed by countless different… realms to which the souls of the dead are usually guided. This system has been broken, though. Currently all souls flow to one place only: the Maw. Itis a grim place of torment, intended for irredeemable souls and swarming with an undead army against which the Scourge pales,” the Magister’s voice rang out clear and loud over the heads of the void elves.
Earlier this week, Umbric and Alleria Windrunner, the co-leaders of the ren’dorei, had received new information about the status of the rescue mission from Highlord Bolvar Fordragon. They had by now decided to pass it on to their people; or at least to those currently present in Telogrus Rift.
Influenced by the grim news the Magister announced, the usually cozy and trusting atmosphere of the void-scarred landscape had regained some of its original eeriness. Luthir actually flinched when an unusually widespread, blue-white lightning flashed across the black and purple sky directly above the floating island, suddenly illuminating the group of mainly scientists standing outside the communal tent on the bleak rock. The Priest spotted several of his colleagues whose gazes glazed over for a brief moment; not out of disinterest but because they embraced the ren’endal to protect themselves from being overwhelmed by the whispers of the Void. Of course, those thrived on feelings awakened by such unsettling tidings.
“In charge of this dark realm but also locked up thereis the one we’ve already heard of as the Banished One and who is otherwise know as the Jailer. He seeks to break free from the Maw, a goal for which to accomplish Sylvanas Windrunner has teamed up with this… entity,” the Magister explained further.
Luthir literally hung on Umbric’s every word. Not that this was something unusual. As he was thoroughly in love with the charismatic Mage, who also happened to be his mentor, the Priest tended to always pay full attention to everything the man said. This time was different, though. For once, the words of the man didn’t inspire mainly positive feelings in him, but he still didn’t want to miss a single one of them.
“After the narrow escape from the Maw, our champion met some friendly beings native to the Shadowlands. Those sent the Maw Walker onward to a place called Bastion. There, our hero investigated further those dark winged creatures in league with the Jailer who abducted our leaders and seem able to freely move between the realms of the living and the dead.”
Umbric’s summary of the Maw Walker’s report went on for minutes, accompanied by skillfully conjured illusions, illustrating his descriptions of the land and people. It contained so much overwhelming information, the Priest wasn’t able to memorize everything. Bastion was indeed inhabited by winged creatures, although these kyrian – tasked with ferrying the souls of mortals to the Shadowlands – looked different from the hijackers. But then again, there seemed to be a rebellion going on and some of the so called Forsworn, with darkened wings instead of the usual white ones, had indeed displayed powers associated with the Maw.
While listening, Luthir alternately poked his thumbs at his chin and then pressed the sides of his index fingers against his lips. A low giggle escaped him as he suddenly became aware of his pose. To somebody watching him, he probably looked as if he was in prayer with his thus folded hands. But that was something that would never happen again, not even while he was being told about a potentially world ending threat. Oh no. His family and their behavior had ensured that.
Nonetheless, he pointedly lowered his arms, instead folding them in front of his chest and had a quick look at the people around him. Thankfully only the female ren’dorei next to him seemed to have noticed the temporary digress of his attention.
Meeting his gaze, Thinnadis inquiringly lifted one of her always perfectly styled magenta eyebrows at him. Obviously she was curious about the cause for his inappropriate amusement during the serious briefing.
Luthir only shook his head. Not the right time nor person to explain his train of thought. Not that he didn’t like the other void elf. Quite the contrary. Thinnadis was one of the scientific luminaries the ren’dorei had apart from Magister Umbric and one of his best friends. She knew about his past with the Heirs of the Holy Light and they had talked about his childhood before. During those occasions, though, the Priest had also learned that the Warlock’s attitude toward the events involving the cult differed highly from his own.
Although there were surprising parallels between his personal history and the one of the Warlock, Thinnadis’ rebellion against the customs of her upbringing had gone much further than his. He had only dipped his toes into shadow magic back then, while she had not only embraces those studies, but had expanded them toward fel magic. Despite knowing that this in itself was just as little evil as void magic was, Luthir didn’t like to think about what could have become of him if he had chosen her path instead.
He turned his attention back to his mentor.
“Following further clues, the Maw Walker has by now traveled onward to another realm of the Shadowlands, called Maldraxxus,” the Magister paused, having reached a breaking point in his oration. “Some of you probably ask yourselves why I’m telling you all of this. I’m not usually known to go around announcing news of the world to everybody.” There were some agreeing murmurs and chuckles from the audience, before Umbric went on: “Due to the superior tasks they pursue, the Maw Walker was forced to move on and leave behind many unanswered questions concerning this realm called Bastion. Yet at this point, we ren’dorei have another chance to demonstrate our worth to the world and especially the Alliance. There is something concerning this realm of the dead that is asking for our expertise in particular. Alleria and I have already offered to Regent Turalyon to take the matter in hand: at some point in the past, the Void seems to have had a special interest in Bastion and has invaded the realm.”
Immediately following this announcement, excited whispers rose in the audience. Luthir shared the feeling. His previous tension and unease were swept away by a wave of curiosity and confidence. The Void was able to breach into the afterlife? Why were this Bastion or the kyrian important to it? Up to this point, the place beyond the Veil had seemed utterly foreign and filled with troubles exceeding his power, but the Void was something he knew how to handle. He swiftly glanced at Thinnadis, but instead of signs of excitement, a deep frown furrowed her forehead. He just wanted to ask her about it when Magister Umbric’s voice redirected his attention back to the front.
“The exact reason for the Void’s foray into Bastion is unknown, but your current reaction shows that you, my colleagues, are as aware as I of the implications this singular fact suggests. The Void’s presence – or at least former presence – in the Shadowlands may not yet be of high importance to the current events concerning our abducted leaders. I’m convinced, though, that in the future, this mystery will help us understand the things askew now happening beyond the veil. Do you share my opinion? Isn’t it our duty as ren’dorei to relieve our allies of this burden, so they can focus on the more immediate tasks at hand? Are you willing to investigate the motives of the Void with me?”
“Yes!” Luthir’s approving outcry wasn’t the only one ringing out from the crowd, but definitely one of the first that inspired others to follow suit.
The Magister looked clearly pleased by their reaction and the gleam in his eyes aroused a renewed tinge of affection for the other void elf in Luthir. He knew Umbric well enough to recognize the love for his work and his people in that expression. He was simply honored to be part of it.
“Then, my friends, I ask you to make arrangements. Over the duration of the next week, try to bring your ongoing research to an end or to a point from where you can take it up later on. Until then, Alleria and I will plan our approach and clarify the circumstances. Be prepared to invest all of your time into the investigation of this new project after that. Thank you for your attention and support.”
With that, the Magister stepped off the small pedestal in front of the communal tent… and was of course immediately swarmed by his colleagues who were hoping to learn more details. Luthir doubted they would succeed. Not even he as Umbric’s assistant and confidant had known the exact content of the speech beforehand. He had noticed that his mentor was especially excited about this Bastion, but hadn’t been able to tease the full reason for it out of the man. The chance that the Mage would now give up more information to other people was slim.
“Damn it. Looks like the relaxing times will soon be over,” the smokey, echoing voice of his Warlock friend sighed, “Umbric has a new pet project and of course he’s going to force us all in on it.”
Luthir’s immediate urge was to defend his mentor. This wasn’t just an egoistic decision by the Magister, but one he had the right to make as their people’s leader. But the Priest also knew the reason for Thinnadis’ bitterness. She and Umbric had a very tense relationship. Luthir was thankful the woman hadn’t simply tossed him in with his mentor in that regard but instead was pointing her aversion solely against the older void elf. Otherwise he would have been robbed of her precious friendship.
Back before their exile from Silvermoon, the two scientists had both pursued their own research of the Void, without much interaction. While the Mage had always been interested in the broad usage of Void magic, the Warlock had focused on potential minions that could control its powers and in turn be made to serve. When Umbric had been confronted by the sin’dorei authority and threatened with treason for his experiments with the Void, he had understandably grasped at every straw to save his work. Umbric had referred to Thinnadis’ research in hopes of avoiding punishment as she had so far, instead he had involved her in the purge and Thinnadis had eventually been exiled together with them. She had never forgiven Umbric for this, despite working with him over the past years.
“I think you’re judging him prematurely on this,” Luthir interjected nonetheless, but softly. “He indeed has asked us all to halt our research, but that doesn’t necessarily mean we’ll all be assigned to the new project. It would rather surprise me, to be honest. Even if Bastion is as high priority as he made it sound, we still have ongoing projects that are vital to our people. I don’t expect him to halt those, too. Not long-term at least. I believe he just hasn’t yet decided who will join Team Bastion and wants to prevent any delays for as soon as he’s done planning.”
The Warlock shrugged her narrow shoulders, turning her back toward the group surrounding the Magister and instead facing the silver haired Priest. “Perhaps. Doesn’t change the fact that my interest in the Void is slowly but steadily sated. For the next few centuries that is. Maybe it’s finally time for me to leave this farm of blueberries and find my own garden.”
Luthir gave a little snort at her usage of the twee label some of their allies but also enemies had dubbed the ren’dorei with. They weren’t all blue! While Thinnadis’ complexion actually was of an intense bluish violet, he kinda liked his own pale skin color. Others had brownish or pink skin tones without any hint of the Void’s corruption. Only an Entropic Embrace temporarily wrapped a ren’dorei in shades of blue and black.But then again, blueberries tasted absolutely delicious, so he didn’tmind being compared to one. The Warlock’s threat, however,made his heart sink.
“Don’t do that! I’d miss you dearly,” he exclaimed in shock.
“That’s charming of you,” she tilted her head at him and grinned, “Well, maybe I’ll stay for the moment. But if he’s forcing us to travel to the land of the dead… I’m out.” She snappishly brushed back her wavy hair that had fallen over her shoulder with her previous movement. “Those… kyrian… they’re called, right? They look terribly boring and demure. Rules, rules, rules. Oh no, I wouldn’t survive that.”
“You’re exaggerating. We don’t know enough of how they are yet… or-,” he pointed out, but was interrupted.
“Bah. Just look at them. You know, that’s the beautiful thing about that directportal to Stormwind here: free dicks and pussies at arm’s reach. I’d miss thoseeither way.” She laughed huskily.
Luthir chuckled, blushing slightly. Of course that was what had her in such revolt. “I still believe you’re worrying too soon. There wasn’t anything said about us traveling there.”
The Warlock didn’t listen, though, musing about possible solutions to the approaching misery.
“I guess, I could go and pre-compensate,” she bit her dark cherry lips. “Oh yes, I’ll definitely do that. Are you joining me? I’m sure I could find a cute guy for you if you’re too shy to try yourself,” she teased with a wink.
“Um, thanks. I’ll pass,” Luthir promptly refused her offer, albeit he well appreciated it at least partially. However, he wasn’t planning on leaving Telogrus Rift during the next hours. If anything, the Magister’s announcement only instilled some slight disappointment in him as he would have to abandon his own experiment. His Void-infused embryos had been developing nicely. It would be sad to freeze them again for an unknown time.
“A shame,” the female void elf commented, appearing truly unhappy about being bereft of his company for the blink of an eye. “Well, in that case I’m off… and hopefully soon neck deep between at least one beautifully formed pair of thighs.”
“Enjoy!” he hesitated, “And take care of yourself, yes?” After all, there were diseases that posed a risk if you didn’t know your partners well, regardless of gender.
“Of course, deary. I’ve been doing this for a long time already even before you were born.”
He blushed. Sometimes he forgot how old Thinnadis was in between her often times juvenile behavior.
“But I do appreciate your concern.” She stepped close, brushing a short kiss against his cheek, before she turned and rushed off, her magenta hair with the tentacles between its strands flowing behind her.
Luthir was still shaking his head in amusement as he set off toward the tent complex that included his laboratory. Even though Thinnadis’ appetite for the exploration of the Void seemed to have been sated quickly in comparison, her appetite for people most certainly wasn’t. Since their transformation into ren’dorei, it only seemed to have grown. Especially on days of leisure, she rarely spent a night in Telogrus Rift, instead staying in Stormwind and its environs. After their affiliation with the Alliance, she had soon become acquainted with all the right places where people looking for entertainment gathered. She had a gift for that. Back in Silvermoon, it had been her who had, after his coming of age, introduced him to like-minded – like-tasted? – people in various bars and other places of respite. After his initial curiosity had been satisfied, Luthir had soon noticed that he – unlike the Warlock – wasn’t the type for a... nomadic lifestyle in that regard. However, Thinnadis had never stopped asking him whether he wanted to join her during her nights out, although he accompanied her only rarely.
Well, thinking of it, maybe he hadn’t been totally honest with himself before. Umbric’s announcement of the upcoming project did affect his own... appetites to some degree. Deep down, Luthir was starting to worry he might have missed his window of opportunity with the Magister once again. Now that the news about the Shadowlands were in, it would become all the harder to arouse the incorrigible workaholic’s interest for anything else than his studies.
After reaching his destination, Luthir let the tent flap of the entrance to his laboratory fall shut behind himself in a far darker mood than before his considerations.
Why had he waited so long? Weeks over weeks had passed since N’Zoth’s defeat and even after the shattering of the Helm of Domination, the life of the ren’dorei had remained rather uneventful. He had had plenty of opportunities to finally avow his feelings to the Magister or at least approach him. Of course, there had been his own studies and… and…. Luthir didn’t truly know what had discouraged him. If he ever wanted to realize his hopes and dreams, though, he would have to act quickly now.
The Priest let his gaze wander over his work with its numerous documents and instruments spread all over the place. Quickly didn’t mean immediately. Currently Umbric was most likely still besieged by his colleagues anyway. Luthir also needed to establish order here if he was supposed to put his work on ice soon – quite literally.
–.o.O.o.–
Luthir was still busy sorting out his research notes when a familiar figure poked their head through the entry of the tent. “My, my! Hello Saewron. I didn’t expect you of all people.”
Even before the Rogue could step fully inside the room, a small ball of fur brushed past his legs. Tulu yapped excitedly, charging directly at the Priest.
“Hey girl!” he crouched down delightedly, mindless of his robes spreading on the ground around him, “And hello to you, too.” He gave the coat of the fox, which had switched from its usual purple to the shining golden color in a heartbeat, a thorough ruffling.
The small animal acknowledged the caresses by licking his hands and wagging her tail like mad, almost delirious with joy. She had never forgotten that he had been the one who had found her and had nursed her back to health, although she was devoted to her current master. Speaking of which.
Luthir stood once more, leaving Tulu to her exploration of the tent and examined the navy haired void elf. He did look haler than last time. After the second scolding, the Rogue seemed to have taken his words to heart.
Saewron smiled diffidently. “Sorry for crashing in on you unannounced. Although,” the corners of his mouth twitched, “It can’t be that bad, as you didn’t burst into a cloud of shadowy dust.”
Luthir laughed. “Oh, spare me. How often did that happen? Once? Maybe twice?”
“More like three times at the very least,” the Rogue corrected with a grin.
“Well, if it had happened again this time, I would’ve had every right! What brings you here? Usually you send a note before gracing me with your company.” The Priest hastily saved some papers from Tulu’s curiously poking snout and frowned as a possible explanation crossed his mind. “In case you were hoping to catch the news, I’m afraid you arrived a few hours too late.”
Saewron’s expression quickly grew serious again. “It has to do with the news, yes. But I didn’t need to hear it from the Magister. Naethir already told me everything. He and the other Death Knights got it directly from Highlord Fordragon.” He wrung his hands and took a breath. “I’m here to say farewell. We’re going to the Shadowlands.”
“What?!” Luthir nearly dropped the gathered notes in his hands in surprise. “Why?! When?”
The Rogue made a face. “Tomorrow morning. That’s why I came here directly.”
Now the Priest was at a loss for words, something that didn’t happen often. He couldn’t even fathom why he was so shocked. Of course he hadn’t anticipated it, but still. Maybe it was because Saewron was the second friend who was announcing his sudden departure today and unlike his, Thinnadis’ remark had only been an early warning.
“Naethir and I have been discussing it back and forth since yesterday,” Saewron explained, taking his silence as invitation. “It was tearing him apart. He feels he absolutely has to go there and do something, now that so many Death Knight’s are trapped in the Maw, but he also didn’t want to leave me behind. So… I’m going with him. I know it’s a little sudden, but I can’t let him go alone. Not after what he told me.”
Luthir wasn’t sure what his friend meant by that, but something else he had just remembered was more important. “I see. But isn’t the portal to… this city in the Shadowlands currently only open for diplomats and the like? Does your brother know that?”
“Yes,” the Rogue nodded, “But since he officially still holds one of the highest ranks among the Ebon Blade, he thinks they’ll either just let him pass or he can pull rank on the soldiers surveying the portal.”
“And you?”
“I’ll pose as his bodyguard. I still think it was an utter farce; but that mission to escort Lady Proudmoore to Kul Tiras I did back in the beginning of the Fourth War will come in handy to explain my presence if necessary.”
“So, it’s only the two of you? But...,” Luthir hesitated, rearranging some of the glass dishes and jars on the shelf in front of him, only to buy some time. He didn’t want to sound rude. Then again, he was talking to Saewron. The emphatic Rogue would understand why he was asking. If one wasn’t a titan and Old God slaying hero like the Maw Walker, there was only so much normal folk like them could do.
“Do you think the pair of you will be able to achieve anything to help? I mean, there is a hole in the sky and some eternal being seeks to break free of its prison.”
The leather clad void elf shrugged calmly, as hoped not taking the question amiss. He absentmindedly traced the hilt of one of the daggers fixed to his belt with a finger. “We’ll have to be careful. We’re aware of our limits. We’ll go to this Bastion first and see if we can help its denizens, so they’ll hopefully help us later on in turn.”
“Don’t you want to travel with us then? Well, I don’t know who us is exactly going to be, but I’m pretty sure Umbric will send a delegation of void elves to Bastion soon.”
Saewron shook his head. “Thanks for the offer. Even if I could convince Naethir to wait until then, we probably wouldn’t stay with you anyway. There seem to be several realms in the afterlife. Depending on the Maw Walker’s travels, we’ll move on to others later on.”
“So… that’s it?”
The Rogue spread his arms in an awkward gesture, confirming the farewell.
Luthir quickly stepped up to him, taking the opportunity to pull the other void elf into a hearty embrace.
Saewron seemed a bit taken by surprise at first, but then returned it.
“Take care of yourself, yes? Both of you!”
A strange expression crossed the Rogue’s features, one that didn’t correspond to the faint color that had spread on his cheeks, but it was gone quickly and he smiled. “I won’t promise anything, but we’ll tread warily.”
“That’s all I’m asking. Shorel’aran, friend.”
And with that, the Rogue – promptly followed by the purple fox – stepped out of the tent, leaving Luthir to his work once more.