Eiridiel Dawnwing

“I hearby name you Adjutant Eiridiel Dawnwing, the Unified. Do you accept these titles, Eiridiel?”

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Eiridiel remembered that day. It felt like a lifetime ago and yet only yesterday. Arvosh had learned his nature and sought him out. Eiridiel had been rescued and brought to Bastion, guided to his purpose under unusual circumstances.

Together with the Shanai, both of his sides faced his memories and he had closure. Acceptance. Forgiveness, not from others but able to forgive himself. His spirit was finally able to be one and move on. Redeemed and elevated he was ready to fight along side the Sha'tor and continue representing the Ren'dorei as a proud member of the Shanai.

And yet that is not what happened.

It was but days before the fight against the Jailer demanded his attention. Days before he had to say goodbye but chose not to. Days before as far as the world knew, as far as it mattered, that he was dead.

Eiridiel opened his eyes to look back out over those golden fields that he called home. A deep breath, slow as he steadied himself. A bittersweet smile as he spoke, an echo of a time so long ago.

"I do... And will hold them with pride."

With those eight words carried on the wind Eiridiel outstretched his darkened wings and took off into the sky. His Purpose not forgotten, but he made a promise long ago.

The soft whites, blues and grays of the boarder paint the landscape as the watcher drifted from his post. The muted beat of wings guiding him to a farm not far off. This was one of his favorites.

This was Azuremyst. His Azuremyst. This was his home.

As he drifted by he watched those faint silhouettes as they moved through their day. A pale draenic woman as she hefted a bag of food over her shoulder. A tired smile as she spoke. A elf walked with her, thick glasses adorning the teenager’s face and tendrils resting upon her shoulders. He couldn’t make out what they were talking about. He never really could.

A pair of kids, undeniably more draenic and half the elf’s age, ran by. Laughing, smiling. Pausing as their mother called out to them before they continued on their way.

He wished he could remain. Just to reach through that veil, pull them into his arms and wings, and stay. But he couldn’t. Duty demanded while posted here he remain on this side of the veil. His Purpose allowed him to watch over them. To be there now and again, but never to truly be there.

At least he could linger, here or at another home when its occupant returned to the isles, until a lost soul called out.

The shapes faded as they walked off. Tending to their days. The young elf stopped, turning her head his way, bringing Eiridiel pause. There was a look in her eyes, something in that smile. She said something, words he couldn’t make out. Four words before she too would start walking. Eiridiel would go to reach out before pausing, a sound reaching him. A distant call, scared. ‘Hello..?’

As he walked through Agthia's Repose, Eiridiel reflected. His gaze turning over those white fields. Every structure in ruin, every monument made to the fallen, every aspirant taking time to reflect themselves.

This was a place of peace. This was a place for him. Both of him.

His eyes settled upon an amorphous shape, then another. Echoes of the shadows that once invaded here. The would-be devourers of death. Where others saw as a sign of Bastion's strength, the importance of sacrifice, but for him it was something else.

They were his people too. Not Eiridiel's, but Arvosh's. These shades did not represent invaders to him, though he recognized them as such, but instead they were what the hungry and the desperate may do especially under the direction of others. The void's echo in Bastion was not just a symbol of what evil may be wrought, but a reminder of what he was.

How easily we could have become like them. He mused to himself.

I'd like to think we wouldn't have.

You in life came to another world, driven by a mad master and hunger. I fought for better masters but too traveled, fought, and fed.

True, but we had the fortune of not becoming that hunger and better teachers.

Were they truly better?

The only hunger you had to sate for your masters was their desire for your recipe for meatballs. That hardly compares.

True. We did disenchant that one man. The void wouldn't have disapproved. We may have denied him judgement.

He exhaled sharply through his nose and shook his head to himself.

I remember. That was our choice, made in anger. We had our sins. In truth, were it not for my time in Shattrath I am certain I would belong to Revendreth and by all Purposes you shouldn't even be in the Shadowlands.

And yet we were in Revendreth for a time, and here we are. Our brethren even left their mark upon this place long ago. Is it the Purpose that brought us here, or are we here in spite of it?

His stride stopped, His gaze turning over to the echo of a voidwalker close by. It wasn't him, and yet he looked at that faint memory like he looked both into a mirror and at someone he was speaking to. His sense of self had shifted in his time here. His brow and hair still long, and yet his pointed ears had waned. That beard came in more full. His tendrils. He had tendrils once didn't he? The void core that was his eyestalk had long since been cast aside, empty, and given to someone dear to him.

Here he felt himself and yet, as he watched this memory, he couldn't help but think about how he never truly let go of that side of himself. If anything it had become too quiet until he took to thinking to himself like this, as Eiridiel and as Arvosh.

With a quirk of his lip he reached out to pat the echo on the head,

"The answer to that question doesn't matter Arvosh." He said to himself. "We are here now." A last reassurance before he continued on his stroll. Peace returned to his mind as he walked passed some meditating aspirants, his gaze turning over shards of armor lost long ago. His route through the Respite has brought him what he had hoped. Peace of mind.

Until one more whisper crossed his mind.

Seated, overlooking the vast expanse of blue nothingness beyond those golden fields he called home, the once elven kyrian drew a soft breath. His wings folded, feet dangling over the edge. In his palm rested a jewel, golden. Blessed years ago, A faint crackle bringing it to life only for that too to fade.

"Be it a moment or ten-thousand years..." He quietly echoed to himself. A memory from years ago. How long had it been? How long had it been since he had seen those men and women who he fought along side, who brought both of him closure on a fleeting lifetime of strife.

He looked down at the jewel in his hand, his brow furrowing. The Purpose demanded he abandon that promise, at least until the deaths of his companions. That he might be the one to greet them, the versions of them Arvosh knew. He had seen them, some of them, die only to return them to life. Versions he knew, and versions he did not. How many remembered? How many cared he was gone?

Eiridiel shook his head, attempting to dismiss the train of thought. He'd roll the gem between his fingers, another crackle felt from within. He could contact them. He could try. He could violate his orders, even more than he already has in times past. He could be seen by his family again, by his friends. He was dead, and yet that wasn't what truly stopped him. It was the Purpose that he remained. His Purpose.

He could cast the gem off the edge and let go. He could finally go to cast off those memories and be free of those chains. There was a reason Purity commanded the watchers, and how few Spirit Healers even now chose to retain their memories. All he had to do was let go. He finally had a place he belonged after all. He was an outcast as an elf and he was never a draenei, only a man who had a debt to pay. All he had to do was let go.

"No." He firmly said to himself, grip tightening on the jewel and stowing it. Forcing away that temptation. He wasn’t ready to let go. He did not want to.

"No." He repeated. Surely his soulbind could feel it. How that harmony of his thoughts rattled and threatened to crack. Hair and wings that seemed all too ready to darken. It wasn't the first time he had had such a moment.

He was advised to reflect, and yet it only deepened his struggle. Is he not already meddling every time he guides them back to life? What happens if one of them is at risk of their soul’s destruction? Can he truly sit idle?

If he lets go, he can. He can continue to fulfill his Purpose.

He can-

*Enough.*

Eiridiel blinked and glanced around, The thoughts settled. He drew a breath and chuckled to himself, shaking his head as he rose back to his feet.

“There is no sense inventing hypotheticals Arvosh.” He said to himself. “You survived the Maw, and selling draenic fusion cuisine to draenei at the same time. You can endure a few stray worries.”

Even as he tried to brush it off, it wasn’t buried deep.

What happens if…

At the temple of purity, Eirikur approached another of the ascended, one he recognized as having been around far longer than he. His brow furrowed before he even spoke. “Lampada. You'll forgive me, but I need guidance.”

”Speak, Arvosh. What is bothering you?” The other kyrian said, her tone firm but offering a gentle smile as soft as the robes that adorned her.

“We serve the purpose. The grand design. Right?”

”That is correct.” She answered. Her gaze searching, as she had searched countless souls before. She could recognize even with that question there was a seed of doubt in him.

“And ours is to deliver the souls unto the Shadowlands. Right?”

”That is right.” She calmly answered, tone even and calm.

“Because without us, the souls are lost and without new souls the Shadowlands would eventually run out of Anima and all would suffer.”

”As we have seen, and something we serve as Watchers.” She further added.

“Right. But we cannot interfere.” Eiridiel further led.

”Save for returning some souls to life as we deem appropriate. Where are you going with this?” She finally would ask in kind. It was clear he had a point to this, and surely she could see it, but some things were best spoken.

The once elven man drew a breath before he answered. “If our purpose is to ensure the safety of souls, and to ensure the shadowlands ever has anima, would our purpose not best be served through intervention? To save living and dead alike from predation by the fel and the void?”

There it was. The woman met his gaze as she answered. ”No. In the moment it may seem so, and you may even save a few souls in the process, but you compromise the purpose. To intervene as a watcher means those forces that threaten mortal souls will be forced to address us. In time you will judge the burdens of souls without count. Imagine having to so with demons clawing through the veil, or even should the void decide to try to invade us once again. Imagine the mortals saved telling others, only to be met by another whom you did not decide to intervene for, that fury added to their burdens. To meddle more than we do may spare a few now, but would damn countless more.”

Quickly he responded. “Under normal circumstances, I understand. But at what point do we meddle beyond the Shadowlands? Surely there is a point where we must act. We had when the Jailer-”

”No, Arvosh." She interrupted, a hand raised to stop him from speaking further. "We do not. The Jailer was a special case, I know it is why you ascended. But that threat was of the Shadowlands and to all of reality. Until such a threat arises again there is no reason to stray. The other covenants can afford to deal with matters in their own way, but for the Shadowlands to endure our Watchers and Bearers must continue their work. You must continue yours as you have.”

His brow knit, his eyes fixed on her. “So when we see smoke we must do nothing. When there are flames we do nothing. We must wait until the conflagration rages out of control?”

”A metaphor." Lampada said, a hint of amusement in her gaze. "We must trust the living to put out the fire, and that if the flames rage that must be a part of the grand design. After all, your soul still reached us did it not?”

Eiridiel stood there in silence at that. A faint nod in understanding. That furrow remained to his brow. His teeth clenched in his silence. He could not argue.

"I know it is difficult, Arvosh. You kept your memories and ascended centuries before you were ready. In a time of war no less. Everything within you calls to act. If you want my advice; Go meditate. Reflect. Remember your Purpose. Remember that while it a great sorrow to see a soul claimed, allowing it allows you to save countless others."

“Every night I sleep, some variant of the same dream haunts me. My hands drenched blue. Screams surrounding me as people flee. I did it.. I.. this..” Eiridiel began, his brow furrowed. Dwelling on the memory. It hurt, the things he did once. Even if he wasn’t as involved as most, he was there. 

“Every night I sleep, the same dream follows me. My hands drenched deep blue. I hear screams. Memories of people.. Faces I never saw.. I don’t..” He repeated. Doubt coming over him. The haze of the dream. The haze of everything, before.

“Every night I sleep.. I remember more. I..”

“I..”

—

As sleep claimed the void elf once again, the same memory played in his head. His hand raised as he stared at it. Blue claws. Shadows hid his flesh, no.. it was his flesh. Darkness flowing as if filling an impression. Screams filled his head, every thought turned to terror and agony. The cold, the pain, the feeling of being ripped apart, devoured by a swarm of tiny maws. One scream cascaded around him. His voice. His screams reverberated through the dark, cascading back to him. And yet he didn’t feel it. He wasn’t the one screaming, was he?

His gaze turned from his amorphous talon as he looked around, trying to make sense of himself within the brilliant pink sphere of energy that had enveloped him. The scream receded, growing more and more distant as the pain subsided. Had he imagined it? Was it even there?  The sphere vanished and he dropped to the ground.

His eyes open as he looked to his hands placed upon the ground. Violet tinted grey, and flesh. How odd? He groaned and moved to his feet. Feet? Did he always, yes. Thats right.  Brushing himself he peered about, trying to get his bearings. The others were gathering.

His eyestalk opened first, followed by his original eyes. Eiridiel pulled himself into a hug, laying there safe in bed beside his beloved. “I was…” He blinked as he glanced to his side. The blanket gone again. Irrhi wrapped up in it snuggly the void elf drew a sigh and laid his head down again. A faint sigh leaving him. Of course she took the blanket.

“Honestly, that depends on the time of day. Irrhi and I try to keep everything organized. To the point if you are right infront of a shelf you can see everything on it, organized around the sides. However, sometimes we are tired and a glass drifts. And then, we have the shelves Naloona can reach.