Venatical

It wasn’t uncommon to find the Ren’dorei tucked somewhere quiet and solitary with a well worn and well used leather bound journal in her lap. It was her bestiary and she’d been working on it for many long years now in her longer lived life, adding pages over the times when it was needed. But today it was no beast she was sketching, but a personal sketch.  She’d done these before in the past, in fact Illdraes’s house had three hung on the walls though they were all of Na’mu. She’d even given a sketch of an Argi once to another she happened to meet in the past. But this... this was one of her rarer and more personal sketches. One, she probably would never show to another and keep tucked in the back of the book where other such sketches remained.  She pushed the charcoal along the whites of the pages and found her subjects taking form, two subjects who had been deep and heavy on her mind as of late. And as she continued to sketch the attention to detail for both were in her own way a reflection of how much she had come to care for both of them. Yet as she sketched she reflected on several things. Several moments in time with both of them but more pressing this day was the conversation she’d had but mere nights ago with the Gilnean who’s scar she was intricately bringing to life across his eye. 

"No more cult... no more gang, sure. But that doesn't change the fact that... there's blood on my hands." "My actions are in the past- but I still did 'em. Consciously. Willingly. I can never change that."

Ivan’s words had provoked something in her that night, a truth she had never admitted aloud but only in the solitude of her own mind. Yet after all they’d been through in the past week she no longer saw a reason to hide her thoughts. If anything, she hoped it might help him see his own truth. A grim ugly truth, but he was not alone. None of them were alone. 

"There's blood on all our hands Ivan, even mine. You and Illdraes don't judge my past anymore than I judge your own because we're all bloodied with our actions despite our different reasons. People like us... We are the lions in a world of lambs. Predators, hunters if you will. But what sets us apart is if we choose to embrace the darkness, or if we choose to fight against it. In both choices we can become limitless and fearless but that transition can be one of the hardest things to obtain.“ “I was told once, that to capture a predator you can't remain the prey. You have to become an equal in every way. I have chosen to be the hunter. No matter what I must do to see to it that they can not harm me anymore. That is why I finally made the choice to end the part of me that made me the prey. But I had to find an equal to help carry me through it. Or in our case, equals."

~Equals~, she reflected on the word as the sketches took more life within the faces of the Kaldorei and the Gilnean both. Each of them had bared one another’s trauma and each had been abandoned in one way or another. All three of them had lived similar lives that brought them to this moment and all three of them had just been stripped bare before one another after a mission gone wrong. But instead of tearing them apart it had only brought them closer, and made painfully apparent to her at least that she had one great weakness that was eating her alive because she was letting it. That was why she called on them both to be at her side as she finally chose to destroy what she had been. A choice, and a separate event which had taken yet another toll on the three of them and only proved in her mind at least that the three of them were far more than just comrades now.

"The three of us know far more than perhaps either of us were ever meant too of each other after what we've been through. Despite how bare events at the cave left us all before one another, it also made us realize perhaps how similar we are in our walks of life. You Ivan, have the misfortune of walking it in far less time than us.... and Illdraes has the advantage of having far more years than either of us to cope and harden his shell. He's better than you, far better than I even and I envy him for it. But he willingly chooses to fight with us and stand by us. Even to call us his friend. I honestly think it's because he sees the same in both of us. We just.... are much younger in our development." “Despite that, I think we each care for each other in our own way. We certainly have come to trust one another, and in a way it's almost... familial. To fear what you are now Ivan, is to fear what we all are. Perhaps it's time you embrace it, and use it and the events leading thus far to lead you in your own direction. Whatever that may be at least it certainly should be stronger than before. And you've two allies who would probably walk through fire to aid you if you called on us." 

Equals in every way... her words reflecting in her mind as she traced the last bits of details in each of their faces. The two faces that were always on her mind now. Friends, who were quickly becoming more like family to her. Both could rouse such confusing emotions within her in their own way, but both had proven they’d remain at her side no matter the cost. And so too would she for them... even if her own feelings were never realized. 

((Theme music as you read if you so please))

Scrubbing, scrubbing, scrubbing…. The sounds of bristle against wood washing away the trail of dark blood that stained the floor of the shop she’d come to temporarily call home. The only home she had left now officially after tonight.

"You aren't the type to pine," The Kaldorei’s voice echoed in her mind. Words spoke just hours ago. Or was it minutes? How long had she been scrubbing this floor. Was the blood stain even still on the floor or had she just been scrubbing it all on her hands and knees lost within the recesses of her mind. "Oh? Then what type am I, do tell." "The type to compartmentalize your feelings, I get the impression you'd agonize over your feelings before letting them be known. I imagine you deliberate about it all for a while."

Again the conversation echoed in her mind her ears pressing firmly against her head as she continued fervently scrubbing. She could still see it, the pandaren home with Sin’dorei motifs engulfed in flames. Flames she’d set in motion as she watched it burned down within her mind. The fire like a wildfire as it grew and grew consuming all within its heat. All the memories she’d built, all the life she’d known prior and till this night had been unable to let go of. Of her life among the Quel’dorei, among the Sin’dorei as a ranger. A life, that no longer had room for a void being to dwell within and the consequences of her choices since then.

"As you know, I've been gravely mistaken before. And easily mislead later. So I think it wiser to keep them to myself till and if an opportunity clearly presents itself. If even then."

"Patience is a good trait to have," he replied as his eyelids fluttered slightly. His voice grew more tired as he continued. "But sometimes it can be a weakness instead of a strength in situations to do with feelings. Or so, I've tended to notice.." She blinked, she hadn’t noticed the passage of time again well into the heart of the night going on into the morning. A glass within her hand, the smell of his familiar preferred drink on her breath. She raised the glass to look to it, how many had she drank now? For that matter when did she think to start and break into his stash? Knowing him he wouldn’t care but even as she had consumed the contents it failed to numb her mind… failed to comfort her any as it merely trapped her further within the recesses of her thoughts. The floor was fully scrubbed as was the counter, no more blood remained in fact it looked like she’d scrubbed every square inch of the floor as it practically sparkled now. The only dark spot on it left was that of her own figure drunkenly brooding now lost within her thoughts. She brought the contents of the glass up to her lips as she threw her head back to consume, feeling the burn down her throat as she went for the stairs and climbed slowly to the top. One hand out helping guide her along the wall while her eyes closed. She could still feel the rage coursing through her veins, still hear his cries echoing through her every being and worse yet… she could feel his final harsh caress as he seeped through her body following the shattering of his home. The sound of shattering crystals, of a foundation that was once her home within Quel’thelas… his home. The home that cast its shade over her all these years and still now lie in rubble as the magic that animated it had been forever destroyed and with it, her freedom of the entity that haunted her every waking thought. But instead of comfort now at last she felt… empty.

Her shoulder found the doorway leading into her room. The spare room he’d lent her within his home during her troubled times. The dark tresses of the Kaldorei sprawled elegantly along her pillow even as he slept. Her eyes not focused on his face however, but on the wound that lay wrapped around his bare chest. Her empty glass at her side still held in hand as her glassy eyes caught sight in the corners of them the armor she’d tediously cleaned free of his blood however many hours before and now drying on the table. The sounds of her work that put him to sleep mid conversation, so tired was he that he didn’t even register her final words before the exhaustion of the last few days they’d survived through took him.

"If, it was ever meant to be... then perhaps I'm naive enough to believe they'll see through my hesitation instead of choosing another. Either way, I won't be the one to make it known first... ever again."

If ever again… a very, very big if. She slowly and quietly walked over to the end of the bed, before lowering herself to the floor and resting her back against the bed as she rolled her head back. Her hands limply settled at her sides as she stared into that dimming darkness of her dying candle that lit the room. The sounds of his breathing the only thing to be heard past the flicker of flame. She stared into the darkness waiting, waiting for that familiar voice to come and attack her. To prod at her heart and very soul as he knew her every thought. Her every desire, her every secret. But there was nothing but silence…

She could still see the Gilnean’s face, see how he glanced through the door and stopped in his tracks only to advert his eyes from her. How he turned without a word and walked away without a look back nor a reply to her despite her attempt to genuinely thank him for being there for her. For being her rock as he held her tight despite how she deliberately attempted to violently break free of his hold. Stopping her from murdering the elf behind her now in her bed and that highborn mage in cold blood as she remained consumed by the last bouts of madness in Run’ahl’s wake. His words still echoing in her ears as he pleaded with her to fight the madness and return to him, to them. The solid feel of his arms around her as he held her up when she had nothing left in her to fight with as the darkness faded at last broken with that shattering sound. The smell of his lotus cologne that was almost a perfect mirror to the same that she smelled now of the elf slumbering behind her. A slumbering figure that she didn’t dare watch sleep in his current state as she knew how she felt for him, for them. Or did she? Did she even truly know anymore? For that matter, after what they’d just endured and the humiliation each of them bore on her behalf would they even look at her the same? Or would she be surrounded by fake faces, masks they hid behind protecting themselves from her as both had their faces covered even now. Her thoughts finally her own no longer misguided nor tainted. So much fuel to torment her with, but all she had now was her own thoughts and… silence.

Her eyes snapped to her hand then as she just realized it was shaking. Shaking as if cold, that kind of cold that no blanket could warm. She raised her hand up before her face as she watched it shake, felt it traverse down her arm along her shoulders before she pressed her hand firmly to her face and it stopped. Eyes shut tight in her momentary lapse of reason.

She could do this, they depended on her. Yet the thought of delving into her inner magic still truly knotted her stomach and made her sick. She was never one to fear nor sweat the could have beens or maybes, only what was. Yet the fear of those voices calling to her again was never forgotten. The fear of that bliss she felt when she first tasted its true power and the destruction that the void promised her when she truly chose to let go. It was far greater a feeling than any other she'd ever come to know, greater even than that of love. Rather that fact was a testament for how poor her experiences were with it in the past or not she couldn't know. All she knew as fact was the fate all who chose to wield it would one day face.

Focus Eccia. Deep breath in, deep breath out. As the whispers grew ever more present so too did the magic that came with it rising up from beneath her skin in dark shadowed wisps. Magic that was now a part of her very being as much as her own heartbeat. Breathe, just breathe... and release.

Honestly she’s not well versed with this kind of thing. Though I like to think that something along these lines would catch her attention if she happened to hear it while walking by. And I’ll list in order what she’d probably like best. Note the first isn’t really an instrument alone but the voice would capture her attention right away even if mixed with the rest!

Rules: bold the aesthetic that applies to your muse.

𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐋.

tired eyes. coffee stains on the table. listening to the bustle of the city. unmade beds. loose ponytails. sunlight seeping through the curtains. chapped lips. walking barefoot across the floorboards. dusty dictionaries. black and white reruns. huge sweaters. the ticking of the clock. hearing birds in the morning. fireplaces. falling asleep during class.

𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄.

freckles. the sun rising. watching the sea. taking shots of the city. historical museums. bright eyes. looking up at the clouds. walls covered in artworks. drawing in the middle of lessons. tracing your fingers on the sand. painting for hours. staying in uncrowded coffee-shops. worn paperbacks. messy braids. going to bed with your socks on.

𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐐𝐔𝐄.

dark hair. a little sophisticated. always observing the world around you. intricate designs. high ceilings. extravagant musical pieces. dim lights. colorless photographs. fancy furniture. pale skin. hearing soft footfalls coming from outside the room. mischievous looks. bitten nails. candlelight dinners. dark shades of lipstick.

𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋.

chandeliers. the clinking of a teacup. laced clothing. modern architecture.light hair. watching the view from the terrace. hidden birthmarks (scars). drinking tea in the morning. wandering about in an empty building. botanical gardens. old films. ancient marble sculptures. expensive perfume. breakfasts in bed. reading about mythology.

𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐂.

compassion. short writings on scraps of paper. blushed cheeks. a bouquet of roses. reading collections of poetry late at night. loose hair. carpeted floors. attending operas. faint music playing in the background. staying under the covers until midday. the night sky. streetlights. picking flowers. dancing around in silk dresses. scented candles. candlelight.

“You know… I think you look better when you let your hair down.” The Ren’dorei paused brushing her hair out, eyes a bit large and in shock. She turned her gaze to find the familiar masked face of the Kaldorei standing in the wooden doorway with arms crossed. The creases in his eyes and cheekbones hinted he was smirking and clearly back to his wiles at last. “There you are, I went by the shrine and couldn’t find you. You’ve been gone for several days now.” She said as she settled the brush down on the bed next to her. A bed that belonged to the little inn she was staying in within Val’sharah. An inn she and Illdraes had spoken with another at long ago the last time he came to visit the shrine of Ashmane.“Is that why you’ve come here again? Missing my presence back at the house?” He further teased the Ren’dorei as he still showed hints of a smile on his face beneath that familiar mask.With a rolling of her eyes she motioned for him to come inside as she moved a few items of hers off the bed so he could sit with her if he wished. “I know it’s hard for you to believe but just because you’ve lost so much recently doesn’t mean you’ve lost everything. Some of us still care about you, a good deal mind you.” She paused then as she felt him sit down not just on the end of the bed like usual when he joined her but right beside her. This was a bit odd, even for him. He always had respected her space and while he liked to tease he didn’t tease her in this manner, not ever. So when she felt his presence at her side she momentarily tensed.“I know you care, and I thank you for worrying over me. I’m not certain what I’ve done to deserve your kindness, but it is appreciated Eccia.” He said genuinely without a hint of tease in his tone this time. The Ren’dorei’s eyes opened ever wider though more with confusion than anything as she raised her head to look to the side and then up at him. Their shoulders so close they almost touched though he was far taller than her even when merely sitting. She hadn’t expected the look he held in his eyes right then. A look that was far more heartfelt and… intimate in a way than any look he’d given her before. “I’m… I’m just glad you’re alright.” She said struggling to find her words in her momentary shock she was now trying to shake off before she read too much into that gaze and the entire odd situation she was now in. “I meant it when I told you you’re never truly alone.”“I know.” He said calmly and still with that same tone as he slowly reached up and removed his mask from his face revealing it to her as he had done a few rare times before. But why now? He wasn’t eating nor drinking? His eyes searched hers, gazing down at her closely for a long silent moment before his lips parted to speak once more. “You haven’t been sleeping still, have you.” It was more an observation of the truth than it was a question.Slowly, she shook her head implying he was correct. “I tend not to sleep well ever. Let alone with all I’ve got on my mind. But having Na’mu has helped.” She admitted to him honestly. As if the mere mention of sleep was all it took, she suddenly winced as her mouth involuntarily pulled open wide making her reach up to cover it as the yawn forced its way out of her lips. Just as the yawn completed and her shoulders dropped, she felt a finger reach for her hair and slowly drag down gently through her void touched strands.“You should rest, you’ve had alot on your mind lately as well and I’ve not been there for you as you have for me.” He said as she sat there momentarily frozen once more in shock. This was not like him at all, but despite it freaking her out as it should have she couldn’t help but sit there as if afraid to move and in part curious what he might do next. “Your wounds are fresher Illdraes, I don’t expect you to worry over me any.” She tried to say resisting the urge to shake her head. “Time heals all wounds, and as always you gave me that time. Now let me give you something.” He said still ever calm and genuine as he slowly brought his hand up around her shoulder. It wasn’t the first time he’d touched her. Not even the first time he’d embraced her but this was the first time he’d doneso when she wasn’t in a great amount of distress. Again despite how odd it was she was compelled to allow it. Compelled to the point of comfort, a comfort she hadn’t allowed herself in almost a year now. With her eyes slowly closing, she leaned in against his chest for just a moment, her head easily fitting under his own as they just sat there in silence with his arm wrapped around her shoulder. Of all the things she could think to say, she finally asked quietly in time, “Tell me of Ashmane.” She felt the slight tilt of his head as he gazed down at her along his chest. But she swore she could almost feel his smile though she couldn’t see it as he settled back into the bed more and kept his arm around her as he spoke. Time had a funny way about it, truthfully she had meant to listen to every word he said as she always did. But something about that moment, about his arm embracing her, the familiarity of his voice and the warmth of his presence was all it took to lull the Ren’dorei into perhaps her first peaceful sleep she’d had since she’d become a void being. And as he felt her grow heavy in his arm, he’d slowly lower her down into his lap as her hair fell around her face. Roused only partially from the shift of movement she reached out with one hand to grasp his arm while she again gave in to the rest she so badly needed. As if to merely check that he was still there… still real. The last thing she remembered was him saying something softly to her in Darnassian, words she didn’t understand… but she could feel the genuine warmth behind them as she gave in to the haze of rest once more.