Rosemarri

Melek's image.

2024

The smell of the sickness found her first, A combination of bile, aged urine and something else – blood. She knew the scent well and that distinct metallic misery tainted the air. She held her breath to escape the knowledge that filled her lungs but already her chest squeezed and she gagged in rejection. Death.

“Shh..” A soft sound, a voice close to her and she tipped her head toward the rumble. Her eyes struggled to open but when the effort tattled that her lashes were matted, she gave up. “Rose..” The voice continued each word a hissed mixture of breath and sound. “I can fix you..”

Fix her? Did she need fixing? Again, she tried to open her eyes but only one gave and she peeked through crimson spiked lashes. Jaxson, with that singular view she took in his torn face, the wounds and dried blood that smeared his tan skin. The lack of fresh blood spoke of healing - good. He lay next to her, the way his body sprawled seemed careless, lax, as if he had just fallen and that is how he stayed. His arm moved, inching toward her in a painfully slow crawl.

Where were they?

With a sharp inhale the answer rushed her senses. The knowledge, the pain, the screaming from the cages around them and the smells: human excrement of all kinds, some fresh and some just the final remnants of those long since gone from this world. The victims, there were so many - prisoners damned to live and suffer. Her hand inched towards his, needing to touch him to make sure he was real.

When their fingers linked, he pushed their hands until they were beneath her tattered skirts in an effort to hide anything that would draw attention their way. Warmth, his light and healing worked its way up her arm and flooded her body. He wasn’t a healer, but he could use his light and tried.

“Nerubian..” He whispered into her hair. “And something different, human-looking almost. A half breed of human and Nerubian.. - prisoners are cycled out, some leave and do not come back - the ones that have been here a while and some come back to die in their cag – close your eye.”

She obeyed, listening for his breathless whisper to tell her all was clear and when it didn’t come she caught and held her breath. She could feel the trickle of blood as it worked its way along the delicate shell of her ear and goosebumps skittered over her skin.

Her held breath turned shallow gasps when she could no longer stand the burn in her lungs and still yet he didn’t speak. Tension twisted down her body, pooling in her stomach but she kept her eyes closed right, body rigid.

The cage door opened, a slow movement akin to a parent checking on sleeping children. There was movement on all sides of her, others trapped with them who crawled toward what she assumed was the back of the cage. Her entire being screamed to move but just when she would have rolled.. Jaxson squeezed her hand. Stay still the squeeze demanded. Stay still. Stay Still.

“No no no.. no no no noo…” Someone wailed and without looking she followed the wail up and over her head. The victim was lifted high and plucked from the cage, her voice growing softer the farther she was taken. “My name is Hurley Vol. MY NAME IS HURLEY VOL. Tell my mother.. TELL MY MOTHER. My name is HURLEY VOL.”

Rosemarri’s chin wobbled and there was no stopping the tears that burned a path across her temple. Her eyes both opened and she focused on Jaxson’s gaunt face - watching him as his eyes slowly opened and met hers. The stare gave her no peace, fear shadowed his gaze.

‘Jaxson..’ Her lips moved, though no sound came. “What do we do…” She whispered.

“We survive.” His voice was grim.

Veil Rogue experience only -- written by Sarven It hit him like a tidal wave. That unnatural summons reverberated so loudly in his head that the fruit he'd only just plucked from the market stall was a mushy mess within his gloved palm. His free hand rose up to press against his brow before offering an apologetic look to the vendor before him and slipped into the crowds that filled the market street.

Bearings regained, he tore the strange little lantern from where it hung off his hip as he ducked into a nearby alleyway. They'd questioned its purpose and how he'd acquired in the time since they had been set free of their tomb, to no avail though. Not even he would relive the memory of how it came into his possession. Regardless, it had proven its use countless times thus far. Just as it would now.

"Show me where I must tread, my Lady." The words were muttered from his lips as he set the lantern upon the ground and opened the latch on the small glass door. From the little flame burning within the lantern threads of light snaked outwards and worked their way between the cobblestones of the street at his feet to outline a sizeable circle around the lantern and himself. Where the street had been now became a star-filled sky that stole more light than it gave.. A gateway to a realm unknown, except to the bearer of that lantern. His descent down an unseen staircase within that circle began and before long he was gone from the sight of any who dared to spy on his activities. All that remained was that strange, little lantern in a 'pool' of the night sky, until a hand rose up from the nothingness and snatched it too into the abyss.. For those he took with him down this path there was never much for them to see. The journey both too swift and too dark to make out anything other than the path the lantern he held showed. Strands of light coiled about one another like a string to guide the way to their destination. For him though? The opposite, an eternity instead of an instant. Every step akin to walking through a pool of honey, or tar.

Every star in the night sky that surrounded them on all sides was a destination. Not so grand as other worlds or realms, he was no powerful magi, but places nonetheless. A quiet space beneath an oak tree overlooking the fields before the castle of Southwatch. A tombstone in a forest void of any life nor happiness. The list was endless.. But the threads of light from the lantern always took him to the one he needed to end up at.

Until now.

Light keep my head above water… I’m drowning. I’m drowning.

“Rose, do you hear me? Look at me. I need you to get up.”

“Wha hap..” Her tongue felt heavy in her mouth. Was she on the floor? She was. They were in the kitchen by the feel of the stone at her searching fingers. Jaxson crouched over her with one hand hovering, fingers fanned as if that would be enough to shield her. A blink, two and she attempted to focus on his face - a face that blurred into three before it sharpened on on singular, concerned, visage. Suddenly he looked older, tired and stress leaked from every laugh line that no longer kept a permanent residence at the corner of his eyes. She remembered now, that Dalaran had moved. The entire city had teleported - they hadn’t been prepared.

“… the city is evacuating.” He was still talking but she must have missed parts of it. Evacuating? His grip was firm as he helped her sit and then as one they stood. “We’ll move together - runners are leading everyone to the..” As he spoke he simultaneously began pulling decorative bits of her clothing free. A broach dropped to the ground, her overcoat unfastened and stripped.

“Why..” She whispered, helping him free of her things that would slow them down. The last time the city had teleported it had been the legion.

“Nerubians.” My life is what I am fighting for…

“Hold tight, Rose!” Jaxson bellowed. “Just hold –” Even with her hand gripping painfully onto the back of his tabard, she could hardly hear him above the din of death that surrounded them. Dalaran was a slaughter pit, and historians would never call this a battle or fight should anyone live to tell the story of what happened here.

Around them, the once great magical city lay in ruins, still floating high above the isle of Dorn though just barely. Above them, purple-hued portals opened periodically to drop the spider-like figures down onto the heads of the citizens who fought their way through the city to get to the single evacuation point that was left.

The progress through the city was painfully slow and dangerous, it was this that would kill many untrained in fighting or hiding. Towers and crumpled buildings lay blocking some routes, whereas others were made impassible by magic shield walls that were maintained by stalwart mages. Mages who would end up giving up their lives in a pitiful attempt to block and slow the Nerubian's progress through the streets.

Throughout the remaining pathway - portals opened with the ease of someone well versed in displacement travel and from the purple swirls larger nerubians spilled. They were massive creatures that easily defeated the people who fought, captured the fleeing and all else who were unlucky enough to be seen. The ones they did not take? - their bodies were left to be trampled by those still trying to escape.

"Don't look." Jaxson grunted and stepped them past the severed forms of a young couple who clearly had been hiding.

His larger form jerked to the side suddenly and his shield viciously connected with a exposed Nerubian skull, the horrific cracking sound lost in the screams that created the cadence they fought to. These monsters were not unknown to him and at least this one fell easily enough, the knight knowing where to aim the strike that followed the shield bash and flicked gore over the both of them.

She gagged.

“Almost there..” They were moving.

Can’t part the sea, can’t reach the shore Can’t part the sea, can’t reach the… Can’t part the sea, can’t reach…

He had turned back. Titans save them. He had turned back.

‘Run straight up the stairs, Rose.’ He had said. Shoving her so hard she almost fell but her feet had been melded to the ground in shock. He was turning back? He cannot.

‘You cannot!’ She had screamed at his retreating back. His stupid, beloved, retreating back.

She knew why - there were people left to help, children hiding in closets and elderly trying to bar doors against monsters who were not going to knock and then go away.

And so she ran, skirts hiked high above her knees so that he would not give her another thought. So that he would turn his attention to killing and saving those who needed to be saved and off of her survival.

For the people. For the people.

“For the people.” She heard him… she had heard him hadn’t she? The three words had warned monsters of all kinds that they were not cowards, they would not flee. They would fight and have fought for the last two decades against unspeakable horrors.

For the people, it was engraved on their souls as their one true path and edict. It was the way, the only way.

She jerked to a stop, pressing her body against the stairwell wall and just narrowly avoided being trampled to death. No one bothered to look her way, it was escape or death, there was no in between.

For them. Not for her. She existed in the in between.

“Melek find us..” As she spoke out loud she peeled from the wall, racing back the way they had come. She could see him, sword ready and shield positioned as she had seen many times. He was holding the line. Those he could not save lay dead at his feet and yet he stood ready.

'Jakk to me….' The summons was breathless, almost a thought, and ties that bound them for eternity would deliver her message. All of the veil rogues would know that call, the chaotic panic and wildness of that unnatural summon for aid. Her fingers found the threads of the shadows that the dead cast across crimson stained stone and she stepped, her world fading into darkness and a different kind of horror before she returned to the reality of Dalaran. Her shadow walking brought her closer, not close enough but closer.

She would save him. And the rogues would save her.

“JAXSON.. Fall back.. FALL BACK TO M-”

They weren’t going to kill him, they were taking him. As she raced toward him she watched his fight turned onto himself, his sword slashing at the webbing that curled around his body faster than he could cut it away. His movements slowed as it sucked his strength the higher it climbed his form. If she could just touch him – just… her fingers gripped the soggy webbing that wrapped around the back of his back and relief turned her blood into lava.

She did it.

“Jaxson?” A whisper or was it? Did she speak out loud? All she could do was stare at the place he had been and the remnants of webbing hanging from her delicate fingers. He was gone.

Dalaran House Sunshield Townhouse

He looked thin. He looked scruffy. His armor must have been left somewhere else in the manor for what he wore now was a ragged mix of leather and cloth pieces. Everywhere she looked she was greeted with desperate mending. His leathers showed the punishment that came from time, wear and perhaps a lack of funds and the bits of cloth she could see… possessed many stitches - some delicate and some just haphazardly crisscrossed but each style did a good enough job holding the tunic together. The sleeve itself was almost seethrough and she scowled. He looked homeless.

“Rose?” Jaxson tipped his head, the stare that met her own was warm and amused.

She hated that nickname, but not from his mouth. Her stare flicked from his threadbare sleeve to his face. “You look homeless..” She blurted without much thought or grace and watched his face flicker from concern, to surprise and finally settled on amusement.

“I suppose I do.” He rumbled, his grin welling with mischief. “The clothes are borrowed.”

“Borrowed?” At some point, just past the laughter and the tears that came with their reunion, she had stolen him from the kitchen staff and the sweets that kept appearing to distract him. Now, seated in the quiet of the rarely used back parlor, tucked into a seat made for two, she gripped his hand as if he would vanish should she loosen her hold.

“Long story…” That mischief bled from his mouth to his eyes and she squinted at him. “And ah.. It might not be appropriate..”

“You have all of my attention and time, Jaxson. I just - where have you been?Your mother – your mother..” She gasped softly. “You have a new sister, that makes three in total. Did you ever imagine such a thing? No, do not answer - tell me! Where have you been and why are your clothes borrowed? I.. I have made sure you have funds, and sent runners to remind you that you are not poor unless you wish to be as some sort of piety pledge..”

Jaxson didn’t shake off her hand but instead allowed her to cling - her skirts bullying the space around his legs and he used his free hand to pat down the silken fluff.

“Well.. Midsummer, I can’t remember the town just off the top of my head but it was a big festival, dancing and drinking and.. uh..” He flicked a quick look her way. “… eating.” At the press of her lips he hurried on. “There was this pretty blond with huge.. eyes.. huge eyes and her uh.. pie was perfect.”

“Jaxson Sunshield… are you married?” “Wha… no.. no- no ..” He choked and ceased patting at the invading skirt. “Your dress is nice, fancy.”

“Jaxsssson..” His name was a breathless sigh.

“She kept me company for a few hours but her father wasn’t pleased when he found out. Turns out he was the lord of –”

“No..” Rosemarri gasped.

“Yea…” Jaxson’s hand left her skirt and he rubbed at his scruffy beard thoughtfully “.. had me arrested and kept me a guest for a bit.”

“A guest in his tower?”

“No, some dungeon that also served as a canning storage. It smelled good.” He chuckled. “She snuck me --"

Rosemarri interrupted. “No!” That seemed to be the word of the evening. “How dare he… your father is going to burn his keep to the ground. It is not your fault his daughter has loose morals and just rolls in the hay with any knight.” She was ranting, she knew she was ranting but the audacity, did they not know who Jaxson Sunshield is? He was a knight of the realm, he was a savior of the people. He was –..

“Rose. Rose. Rosemarri..” His laughter grew in volume each time he said her name and the hand that kept them linked was brought to his chest, squishing it there. “She is a fine girl, a good heart. It was her mother that let me go, finally.”

“Mother?”

“Another long and rather inappropriate story..” He coughed, clearing his throat loudly as he took interest in the parlor now. “I like what was done to the place, being Dalaran and all it’s not decorated in purple..”

She stared at him in stunned silence, breath held until he looked back her way. At once they both dissolved. “I cannot breathe..” She croaked as she laughed, both hands pressing against her corseted ribs. “You are out of control. One of these days you are going to find yourself in a lot of trouble..”

“I know..” He grinned, reclining on the couch. “But it isn’t today.”

“Terrible..” She sniffled, dragging a knuckle beneath her eye to remove the tears that kept pooling. “You have been missed, the coalition is not the same without it’s Marshall. It will never be again, I fear. Much has changed and there is so much to talk about and show you but I think we should start with your parents. I have an idea if you permit..”

“Let’s hear it.” “Let us send a messenger to them, I will sign it and make it vague… have them come here so your mother gets … time. It will be a wonderful surprise!” Her voice trailed off as his grin faded and something she couldn’t recognize darkened his features. No, she didn’t want his laughter banished. “What is it..” She coaxed.

“She died, Rose.. I heard it..” He ventured, attempting to put thought into words.

Her hands moved to collect a single one of his. The contrast was stark, her fingers delicate and sickly pale compared to his callused and tan skin.

“The wars and the exposure of what is past the veil of death took and gave many things - a price of servitude was paid but I think your father would pay it a thousand times over to have your mother at his side for all of his life. Wrongs have been rightened, Jaxson. Have faith in that. They have had their time, this is for you and her to heal each other before you get swarmed with siblings that did not exist when you left. Allow them to share their love and tell you their story. Yes?”

He stared at her for a quiet moment longer before he’d nod.

In a bid to get his smile back, she scowled at him. “And for titan's sake.. why do you have to seduce everyone? You are going to send a horde of bastards my way, I know it.”

“Gosh, Rose. Not -everyone-..just the ones with big.. uh eyes..”

There it was.

Rosemarri shut the door behind her, a quiet click that sounded excessively loud in her ears and bit through the anxiety that reared its head at the quiet of the home’s entrance. What if the letter was old, what if it was months old and he never made it? How many times had he promised to make his way back and never did?

What if he wasn’t here?

No one came to greet her and a frown tugged to life as she tugged her gloves free, set her cloak over a decorative chair and moved down the hall. Map room, no. Parlor? No. Each room she checked abused her hope until there was little left.

“Hello?”

“Oh! OH, my lady, you are just in time..” A woman stepped out of the kitchen doorway and beckoned her before vanishing once more.

“Have you seen…” Her words stalled and failed her. Did they even know who Jaxson was? It had been years, the staff here had been moved to Southwatch with the relocation of the children and all that was left was a caretaker collection who wouldn’t know her brother’s face.

For some reason she still clutched her gloves, twisting and ruining the soft fabric as she strolled toward the kitchen and the sweet smells that welcomed her.

“Three.. Two…”

“I bet four silver..”

What? She paused in the doorway and took in the wildness of the kitchen. The bread was baking, pots were hung and clean and the entire household gathered around the two men that faced off over a small wooden table.

“Threego” The cook shouted and both men dropped their faces into the pies before them.

“What is happening..” She half laughed.

“Your brother bet he could finish a whole pie before..”

Rosemarri didn’t hear the rest. Her ruined gloves dropped to the floor and she took a step forward, her bright stare focused on the crown of the dark head that voraciously consumed the pie.

“Jaxson.”

“ROSE..” Cough. “One moment, I'm winning.”

The prodigal son had returned.

Stormwind nobles are a menace to society.

And yet.. here she was! A big, although well-dressed, hypocrite. Having joined the gaggle, she found herself seated at a somewhat round tea table with two handfuls of the city’s lessor noblewomen gathered about. Each lady dressed as if the more ruffles one had applied.. the higher ranking they were - at least at the table.

While her own attire was woefully lacking in ruffles, she did well to match them in outlandish style and had shied away from the expected pastels of an afternoon tea dress. Instead, she picked a deep crimson with gold trim, her corset tight and stitched with the house’s emblem right on the front. A shield and sun, lest anyone mistake who her father and people were.

Not that it mattered here.

The Dalaran event was enchanting, a tea party set up in a garden environment with only the tower-filled sky and flowers as a view. And quaint.. until the gossip began.

A faint smile plastered to her lips as she listened to the tales that circled the table at lightning speed. But instead of joining in on the nonsense, she kept her position and visage demure and her gaze fixed on the untouched cookie-like treat that sat untouched on the plate before her.

“…she married a stable boy, and he is not even handsome! He waddles.”

“He does not WADDLE, Lady Mary – he is a war hero, he has a limp..”

“…A war hero that is now a stableboy? Please. He is after her inheritance for sure.”

“Would that not be a stableman?”

“Did you hear…”

“…. I heard the King is dead.”

The table collectively gasped.

“Hush your mouth, that is treason if it is not true!”

“Lady Caldesene, please!” This was a terrible idea, why had she agreed? Oh, that is right. She had been sweetly begged and had fallen victim to a soft heart. Her stare flicked from her plate to give a once-over of the gathered noblewomen before her attention settled on the object of her ire - well, mock ire.

Lady Hayli Vionnet. Rosemarri took a moment to study the other woman, the one face she knew, while the others clucked about treason. Petite, a halo of red curls pinned back from her face with golden pins and green eyes sheltered by thick-framed glasses. She had chosen a pastel green today and it gave her the appearance of meek and sweet.Little did anyone here know that the mouse quiet noblewoman was a hellion on the open sea. Her husband was an infamous pirate lord and that tanned skin was the result of many adventures in open water.

She grinned at the memory of the initial conversation, the stomping and raging. Her beloved pirate lord was positioning for a pardon from the House of Nobles and had placed his lady wife in the right circles to help his path. Much to Hayli’s displeasure.

“Have you heard of the pirates that have come forward for pardons..” Rosemarri spoke up, adding to the gossip mercilessly.

Another table-wide gasp.

“Surely not..” An older woman with a feather-laden hat wobbled.

Hayli stared, first at the woman and her way.

“And why is that Lady Caldesene.” Hayli challenged. “Surely you believe in redemption.”

Rosemarri’s grin widened. Now the tea party would be interesting…

“My Lady?” A soft voice sounded from beside her. “You have a messenger.”

Drat. She would miss everything.

“Pardon me a moment, ladies.”

“Lady Rosemarri…” Hayli protested, but it was too late. Rosemarri allowed herself to be led fron the garden room and the awaiting courier.

The seal was Sunshield and she wordlessly vowed that if it was Haven asking to join her.. again.. she would hang the girl by her toes in the cour–

“What is your name..” She whispered, unable to pull her stare from the letter as she spoke.

“Anson, my lady.”

“How delayed are you? When was the letter sent? I see no date.”

“Week about, my lady.”

“Thank you.”

Rosemarri twisted the letter in her gloved hands. Choices. Choices. Her escort home wouldn’t be here for some time yet but what if..

What if he was already in Dalaran and just waiting for her to arrive? Decision made, she turned toward the gentleman waiting to escort her back to tea. “Forgive me, please deliver my regrets back to the table and Lady Vionnet. Something has come up and I must depart.”

“Yes, my lady, I will. Shall I arrange an escort for you?”