The Hand of Protection

He had been through much loss. It wasn’t rare for the elder knight, after all. He lost his homeland, his people, his paragons, and his close friends. Gareth understood loss at a young age as his life was completely focused around warfare, after all.  Gareth then lost his brothers; the last of his family thrown to the dirt either by the Horde, or even by their own hands.

Yet, this was different.

For every loss, there was at least distance. For his homeland, there was a fight to continue chasing, for his people, there was still many to protect, for his paragons, to uphold and spread their values, and for his close friends, to remember that they died with honor. His brothers were already so detached from his life that his ability to overcome the grief was far easier when compared to any other (That is not to say he did not feel heavy grief, of course). 

Yet, this was different.

Gareth adopted his sons, each handpicked for their values and separate upbringings. He was wholly prepared for his own life to be taken, that he wished his sons to be the ones that raised his Nathaniel. Each would provide differing perspectives that would change the very way how Nathaniel thought, and each would create a Paladin that would bring pride to the family name once more.  Then they took him.

The Horde. Vile Greenskins. Traitorous Elves. Naive and simpleminded Tauren. Grotesque, disloyal Goblins. Primitive Trolls. Heretical Undead. They would be expunged from this world. Agents of chaos, and nothing more. The true enemy of all that was pure in this world; the ones who slaughtered his son, his sweet… son.  Gareth’s fingers barely folded into his cyan tabard, the symbol of the Silver Hand barely wrinkling.  The Orcs shall pay for their crimes upon all of peace. The Tauren will be taught and trained like the beasts they are. The Goblins thrown to the Maelstrom, and their machinations cast in as well. The Trolls will learn the feeling of fire rolling over their primitive, abhorrent flesh, their ancient civilizations torn down. The Undead will finally know the memory of the North; the pain as the Light turns them all to ash and cinder. The Dark Lady shall know the darkness like his Prince must. The Elves will be converted or removed so that the Quel’dorei might stand once more, while the traitorous Nightborne are slain for their transgressions. Gareth folded his tabard, gently placing it down, lifting a far darker blue, though rather ragged one over his head. The Lion crest fluttered down and along his chest. I am a knight of the Alliance. Gareth turned, making his way to the keep. Left behind was the graveyard of his family, a freshly built headstone resting within it. 

                                    Here lies the Hand of Serenity.                           Loving father and devout follower of the Light.

                                                Calel Davice

((Nothing like a son dying to get Grampapa to feel all that Second War hate again! Well, I was looking for a way to keep Gareth for BfA; here it is! I am gonna miss the story with Calel, but his decision is well respected and has helped move along the family story.))

Obligatory Family Mentions: @sunset-sword

The beast was fighting with violence, fighting for her life,For the first time she don’t care that she was hurting people, it was not Caeliam, only the wolf. Bite and claw was the first tool of the beast, the anger of the beast growing each time that the beast was getting hit by a spell or a weapon, easily hear by the growling breath of the worgen.

Then a scream come to the ears of the beast, the beast took conscience for a moment, a scream that she rarely hear, the one of Väella. The beast look behind as she saw Väella, a dagger in the flesh, right between two plates of her armor. The woman wearing the skin of the beast stop shivers at the smell of the blood, like if for a second she would have took Vaella as maybe a second thing to attack, but she took back her conscience enough to not see her as one. 

The beast was not moving, looking at Vaella as she hear the scream of anger of the warrior again when she remove the dagger from her body, the beast scream at her turn as she charge a man, jumping on him, a cultist in dress, she bite his neck, broking his bone in between her teeth. 

Sadly, that distraction in the middle of the fight took too much time for the beast. A man charge her, a two-hand sword in his hands, raising the sword as the beast finally notice and was going to move, but the blade fall on her, cutting the flesh, hitting the bone, breaking it as the limb fall at the ground, blood falling of the now missing left arm. The beast was in shock for a moment.

Then the beast became enrage and scream. Vaella go closer and kill the man who was going to hit again Caeliam. Before the warrior lady run away as quick as she could. “ Fuck damnit, shit of worgen. “ 

The beast scream and charge the cultist… until… 

The sky became red, something was coming quickly, closer. It was big, the end of the world? Before hitting with violence Silithus with violence, the world trembling as the cultists screams and run away at this moments, as the sword of Sargeras hit the land of silithus. The beast and the lady warrior stop moving, looking in the sky, even from there, they could see the blade in the land. 

The worgen look around as she notice the body of 8 cultists, and 5 others cultist taking their leave, running away quickly. 

Caeliam start to walk, slowly, with difficulty, then fall at the ground, the adrenaline stopping, taking place to fear, the beast slowly turn back to her human form. 

The mage was having her eyes half-open, looking at the left, looking at the blood falling of her arm missing, she feel tear falling the long of her eyes, shivering as her vision seems to drop. 

“ D-danirel… why do I feel so… cold… “ She said, whispering.   She saw the shadows of some griphon, she hear her name and slowly the land of shadow took her, when she feel light wrapping her. 

“  M-ma-madam Väella, why are we here? I really don’t like… this place…  ”

“ Oh by the damn light Caeliam, don’t you know how to shut up ? ”

Caeliam gasp and stop talking, A mage and a warrior was walking in the un’goro Crater, Väella did took advantage to the fact that Danirel was absent to take Caeliam to a training, Caeliam look at Vaella again and look at her wrist, two golden bracer was there.

“ B-but why did you cut my magic… again… I-i can’t fight wi-without. ”

“ You are a beast now, so fuck you, you can fight without. ”

Caeliam tremble, looking down. She was hating the fact that Väella was treating her like if she was a beast, she was not, she was cursed… Curse by someone she have trust… The woman close her eyes as she sigh, looking around as she wonder what was the training she did want to do. She was sure Danirel would be angry to know that she have agreed for one of these training… Even if she just learn that… she got again these anti-magic bracers.

Caeliam look around as she frown an horrible smell come to her nose. She look at Väella and whisper to the angry warrior.

“ M-madam Väella… There a strange… horrible odor… coming from… there? ”

The mage point a direction as Väella walk slowly in that direction, taking a finger to her lips to say to not speak, she remove her helmet as she hear some voice, she frown, not understanding the language, she lower herself and go slowly in a direction. She frown as she saw a group of man and women, she frown as she notice their cloth. Slowly the warrior step back and look at Caeliam.

“ Cultist, let’s go, we must go far- “ 

“ INTRUDER! “ A voice came out from behind, screaming. 

“ Damn light! “ Väella say as she replace her helmet, taking out her shield and sword. 

Caeliam tremble as she look at Vaella and look around, she was terrified, all her bone was reacting to that fear, horrible sound coming slowly from her. And the woman transform herself into that beast, the beast growl with anger as she grab Väella and quickly run away with her. 

“ No fight, not enough. “ Say the beast. 

But the beast feel something hit her with violence as some cultist have charge spell against her.The beast drop Väella at the ground and look behind, trembling at the pain as for a moment the mind of Caeliam fall asleep and that the beast took full control and charge. The first cultist she saw got his face hit with violence with claws. 

( End part 1. ) 

Gareth lifted his hues towards the night sky, his pools searching the stars with mild curiosity. Despite the emerald glow that tainted the sky, he felt a wave of peace flow through his form. Something within him lit up, offering a bubbling warmth that stoked the inner fire of his Light. The Knight tilted his gaze forward, cloak billowing behind his figure as he rested along the balcony of his keep. He did his oath well, even if it didn’t support his requirement for atonement. Yet, his Light was pleased, and he felt a vigor pulse through his form. Tomorrow he would return to Argus and once again take the fight to Legion. Tonight, however, he’d walk the gardens and visit the graves of his brothers.

The decision was made, and his boots slid along the loose gravel that acted as makeshift roads down to the cemetery that was constructed by his father. Despite his dastardly deeds and terrible actions, he held some regard for the family’s history that he considered himself a paragon of. A knight of terror, as Gareth noted him; one that stood as an affront to the Davice legacy. The elder Paladin shook his head, greyed hair barely fluttering with the slight breeze that assaulted his profile. His expansive, azure pools searched the first few headstones that noted his father and mother alike.

Gareth smiled, walking past only to offer a ginger brush a palm along Lady Selia Davice’s headstone, the other actively avoiding his father’s. As the man walked through, the magnitude of headstones became more and more obvious. The greater family very quickly disappeared during the scourge, the rest losing itself in the defense of Hyjal during the Third War. By the end of it all, Gareth truly only had his brothers left. Yet, soon he, the eldest, outlived both. One fell to his own hand, the other to the blade of a Forsaken.

Gareth rested within the middle of the large plot of land, his head shifting from right to left as the frigid breeze pulsed against his paled features. His hair shifted with the movement, forcing it out of its orderly fashion. After a moment of respite, the man turned, casting his gaze back towards the keep that lay alight. Edric’s shadow could be seen in the stoned window. His wife moved a few floors above, their child likely in her arms. Calel could be heard in the training grounds, and his final adopted son Danirel meditating near the gardens.

The Paladin elicited a sigh, his hues slowly hidden by his wrinkled lids as he made his way slowly back, a hand moving to rest along his mother’s final resting place again.

“You have wonderful grandchildren… Mum.”

@sunset-sword

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