Dar'thea

The Illidari woman and her Sayaad partner were a bit more preoccupied in the tradition that was more common among other races, but their new found daughter was all the eager to celebrate. Thus the pair found themselves busy with creating a well received celebration for their child. However, there was still one thing that the Illidari needed to have laid ready for her partner, a very special gift.  Before going off to bed, she would leave a small box atop of the pillow the Sayaad had barely used. It was plain black , small enough to fit in her hand and with a simple tied ribbon around it.  Bel’sharia would await in their room, sitting idly in the reading nook to the side, not quite reading, but merely sitting and waiting till her partner would arrive and see to the gift atop her pillow. Once opened, if ever to be, Dar’thea would fine within was her engament ring.

All told, very little of this life is what the Sayaad, once an infiltrator of empires and conquerer of worlds, might have ever expected for herself. With the Legion fallen though, and her last few decades spent on Azeroth even before their collapse, Dar’thea has found a sense of calm and peace that has eased the chaos and destructive intent in her.

“I’ve just finished putting Luna down to bed, she wanted to play with her new gifts all night, but a few bedtime stories and a glass of milk have finally put her out,” Dar’thea offers to Bel as she enters their bedroom, her hair tied up with a handkerchief, and looking generally a bit tired. “Motherhood does not come naturally to a Demon...but I can’t say it’s not rewarding.”

She drops to sit on the edge of the bed before eyes light on the small box. She shoots a questioning look at the Illidari, one she knows that her partner can’t truly see, but can at least be read in her aura before she picks up the box. “This is for me I assume? Did you get me jewellery? You know you didn’t need to get me anything for the holiday, celebrating it is still new enough to me, but thank you darl...” Her voice catches in her throat as she undoes ribbon and opens the box, and takes in the beautiful ring inside.

“Oh...” a soft murmur, as she careful extracts it, turning it over to catch the candle light that warms the bedroom. She carefully guides it onto the ring finger of her left hand, holding it up to study, wordlessly taking it in, her expressions, and her aura, flitting through a whole spectrum of emotions. “Bel, this is beautiful...and of course the answer is still yes, it will I’m sure always be yes. Happy Winter’s Veil. I love you.” And of late, more and more, the Demoness knows those words to be true, even if for so long that emotion and an understanding of it escaped her.

She is very far from the malicious and cruel creature she once was, there are times even when the call back to it lingers, the memory of what she was and what she’s done, the dull ache of her past, and her demonic needs. For the moment though, Darleneth Theadorin exists in a state of comfortable domestic bliss, a wholly new sort of challenge, but one she finds increasingly rewarding every day.

Sai’lyn had been lounging rather then working as of late, there was little desire and little push for her to do anything. Even working on her drug trade had already grown boring and tedious. As much as she wanted to keep up to it and look after the people under her, money just seemed like a stupid concept and a waste of valuable metals. She would much rather just steal the money, maybe just kill a couple nobles here and there to get the resources she wanted to jump start the projects she had in mind. For now, she had been spending a good portion of her time drinking, lavishing herself out at the bars and of course plotting. Though, considering she was only taking this whole thing with her “Daughter” semi-serious, there felt little drive to push things forward. Not to mention the fact she seemed to be more so on the ropes or playing by others, letting them do all the work while she did nothing. Perhaps it had it’s little bonus’, making others do the work and be at risk, but as of late it just didn’t sit well with her. Alice was her first friend, no one had ever called her that before and she felt it to be genuine, she didn’t want to lose that. After her pretend fight with Alice who was pretending to be this Helriel, who seems to have quite the history of living in Duskwood, she decided to go off and get her strength back with another bit of feeding here and there and enjoy herself out. The fight didn’t drain her too much, but with never knowing what Ava was up to, it felt safer to always be at full strength. Just healing up the couple wounds here and there she sustained and the little bit of magic she wasted on away, it felt good to feed on just the little bit of life-force and energy that was so wasted in Stormwind. After which, it was time to head off to see Angel and Missy, well their apartment. It was good to pretend they were still there, she did ensure to make a couple visits even prior to this fight with ‘Helriel’, even if Ava knew they were moved, she’d still think this location was important. Shuffling around the shabby apartment, pulling out remnants of alcohol to drink along on her own. Sai’lyn had been in some run down gutters before, but honestly, she would defiantly list this place near the top of the list. Of course her own labs and dungeons for prisoners were always number one and two, so that seems to mean something. Setting down onto the shabby, broken down straw bed, she’d pull out the letter Alice had given her to read. Tapping it in against her fingers as she seemed to think back on the conversation, it made her curious on just what the other was planning. For now, she simply opened it with a slice of her nail and pulled out the parchment to unfold and read: Mortals don’t make good pets, do they? I mean, I can understand keeping them close like livestock, but they are so fragile. They die so easily. I considered bringing back some of the pieces when I break these, but I know you aren’t that sentimental. You’ll find better pets. xoxo Helriel P.S. – Stay off my land. At first she wasn’t sure just quite how to make it out, eyes narrowing as she read the words over and over. Then a smirk spread in over her lips and a burst of laughter soon joined. Mind began to reel in all sorts of directions. Could Alice have betrayed her this whole time? Could she have been working with Ava since the start? After all they only briefly met once before and it wasn’t all that grand of a meeting and then later she did seem to happily take Sai’lyn on as a ‘friend’. Did she suspect or help corner Angel and Missy off just to capture and keep them? Was this a fair warning for such? Of course, none of this was true and even the shadows around her body began to chuckle over such thoughts. It was a good play. In many different outcomes, this idea and plan would cover many bases. If Alice was discovered she could play that card of wanting to betray Sai’lyn and having been investigating Ava to see if she was worth even joining with. If Ava already knows or learnt about Angel and Missy being moved, she would have to rethink if that was true or not and that could cause some mistrust among her ranks. It also opened a way to solidify that Helriel was a threat to Sai’lyn and would be someone to curry favor with. Not to mention it would leave herself seeming valuable and weak, giving Ava a false sense of confidence in whatever her next move was. Smiling down to the letter seeming to approve of it’s contents, she would go ahead and fulfill her next part. It wasn’t hard getting fake angry, no one had ever seen her become in such a state of pure enraged ferocity. The building of course would have to burn down, not just for the acting but also because it was such a disgusting state and no one deserved to live in it. Least, she told herself she was being generous as she began to smolder and unleash a quell of Fel fire to seep in the termite infested wood. Of course, after piling all the alcohol into her little pocket of the nether, can’t waste such after all. The letter she would ensure to leave behind, crumbled and slightly singed. Putting a small charm onto it to ensure it’s safety. She wasn’t the best at such magics, protection spells or charms, but she learned enough over the years to least ensure this one would last the hour and be undetected. After all, she wouldn’t want Ava thinking she meant to leave it behind. There was much trust that the city would act fast enough to put out the fire, so moving on ahead, as soon as the roof began to cave in under the night sky, she’d ascend into it’s light. Casting her shadow over the old towns distract, in the form she often desired to not use, but once more, she had to make this look like it struck home and only her true form would ever show how serious she was in any thing. Taking a small quick look down towards the green fires, she would quickly fly off further into the sky and head back home.

It was hard to be away from Quin. It was nearly impossible, in fact, after her last efforts to keep people safe had led her deep into madness. She had lost grip on reality and the dark passengers she carried altered her memories and beliefs. It was the worst it had ever been, and she carried guilt for attacking Anthion, even if she hadn’t actually hurt him.

But Quin’s trust and support gave Alice the strength to overcome her recent dalliance with insanity. He made her strong and sane, and with his newfound strength, he breathed life into her faith. She could help Sai’lyn, she could help her friend, because he was never going to let her fall again.

So, with his backing from afar, Alice haunted Duskwood wearing a face that was not her own. For the next month or so, Alice Ward existed only in whispers and shadows. She was an invisible force associated with Sai’lyn, but something that was nearly impossible to catch sight or scent of. Instead, Alice was now Helena Duskheart, a raven-haired half-elf who was regarded as a witch by the locals of Duskwood.

More importantly, though, Alice was Helriel.

Helriel had died so that Tristan could live. She had been pulled from him, kicking and screaming, and left a deep relief in his void-touched soul. Alice felt guilty about resurrecting the wretched creature in this way, but it was a necessary evil.

And Alice intended to commit many necessary evils in the service of keeping Sai’lyn’s beloved pets safe.

“Where are we going?” The young guard asked quietly. His tone was thick with alcohol and amorous intentions, but Alice could tell that his suspicions were on the rise.

“Just a little further. There’s a beautiful grove up ahead,” she assured, perfectly matching the soft, otherworldly rasp of Helriel’s tone.

“You know, I am not picky, right? I mean, a little picky. You’re beautiful,” he slurred. “But we could have done this anywhere.”

“This place means something very special to me,” Alice purred in return, turning icy blue eyes on the man. She didn’t have the power of magical charm or seduction, but the potion she had slipped in his drink at the tavern, and her natural flirtatious nature, gave her an edge that kept him following her to the site of Olivia’s former Duskwood manor.  

“Ain’t this where that witch lived, though? Like, I am really not into all that spooky shit or challenging spirits. We can just—”

His protests were cut short as Alice turned and suddenly kissed him deeply. It was as much an effort to shut him up as it was applied incentive to keep him moving.

“It is just a little bit further. I can see the moonlight. Don’t I deserve a beautiful moment with you?” she whispered against his lips, breaking the kiss for only a few breaths before delving deeper.

In response, the man groaned wantonly and suddenly picked up the petite, dark-haired woman. He carried her hastily towards the clearing, matching her passion all the while. It was a wonder he didn’t trip on a branch or root as he hustled through the darkness. It amused Alice, but she didn’t dare express it.

The grove was literally a place of magic. A powerful Druid had cleared the charred remains of Olivia’s house. He had sunk them beneath the earth to feed the newly established fruit trees and flowers. As fall approached, the trees were heavily laden with apples and plums. No one dared pick them, though, because the lush growth was seen as witchcraft. They were sure the place was still haunted and cursed, so it was the perfect place for “Helriel” to commit her dark deeds.

“I need you,” the man whispered huskily as he put Alice down. His hands went instantly to the hem of her dress as he backed her into a large oak tree. His patience was all spent, and Alice couldn’t exactly blame him. If anything, she was impressed he had managed to withstand the lust potion for as long as he did.

“And you shall have me,” she purred again. She reached up to gently caress his face. Her thumbs traced his plump, youthful cheeks and as she approached his eyes, she whispered again. “Close them. Indulge me in this simple act of trust.”

Alice was not the sort of predatory that Helriel was, but she felt a swell of pride when the man hesitated. Some distant part of his primitive brain recognized the danger he was in, but that part was far away and weakened by more pressing matters. He closed his eyes and leaned in to kiss her again. As they kissed, Alice called upon the empty, despairing energy at her disposal. Tendrils over void and shadow extended from her. They were like heat mirages in the darkness, and for the time being, she was the only one to feel them. They coiled about her limbs and waited for her command.

But when she broke from the kiss, there were no words this time.

Instead, she placed her thumbs over his eyelids and started to apply gentle pressure. As he started to pull away and panic, Alice used the void to hold him in place. He struggled more and threatened to scream, but the expression died in the hollow of his gaping mouth when Alice’s spell took hold.

Memories, vivid and dreadful, poured into him. He saw Helriel’s true form, but only in incomprehensible flashes. The space between each flash was filled with his own imagination. She stirred up images of things that scared him and things that aroused him. She pressed hard to muddy his memory of their evening together. She warped the image of who he was with to the point that he wouldn’t remember her eye or hair color. She wasn’t seeking to do irreversible damage to his mind, not like past victims, so it took a significant amount of focus to back off as he started to cry and piss himself. When Alice let go entirely, the man dropped to the ground like a puppet whose strings had been suddenly cut.

“Necessarily evil,” she whispered, as if to remind herself that she couldn’t finish him off nor could she let him die. She pulled out a flask from his pocket and emptied the contents on his clothes and chin before pressing it into his hand. She left his pants in their unfastened state but took care to drape a nearby blanket over him.

Alice didn’t want the man to die. She wanted him to remember a brush with a monster and have no one truly believe his story. So, if he was going to survive a night, alone and passed out in the Wood, it meant Alice would have to watch over him to keep other predators from taking advantage of his vulnerability. She wrapped herself in shadows and climbed a nearby tree to keep an eye on him until he got up and wandered back to town.

Then she could return to Quin for the night. She could go home and wash the demonic stink from herself and engage in an act of love that was more recognizable.