Ithilios Starstrider- Opalrayne

Faolan Commission for @varment-fao Thnak you for commissioning me!!! and I hope you like it!!

@daily-writing-challenge

There always seemed to be some reason or excuse for the two of them to cross paths nearly ever day since their initial meeting. Their budding friendship evolved with such ease, that scared her. She felt herself drawn to him in a way she hadn’t felt since Jacinto, a love that she had lost before Fiske. With each meet up, their bond seemed to deepened, and the ache of yearning and longing grew stronger; but not just for the Shal’dorei, but for her as well.

She fought it. She fought those feelings that stirred when he looked at her with quiet affection, when his hand brushed her cheek, when his voice softened just for her. She tried to smother the spark each time it flared, but it was growing harder to resist. He was peace. He was comfort. He was safety. She longed for his presence, for his voice. And now, here she sat with a hand in his listening to the haunting melodies of Empyrean Obscura at HoT Fest, the song that eerily echoed the feelings she secretly had for him, and felt at that moment were coming to light.

Fear and guilt gripped her. Guilt that allowing this connection would somehow dishonor her husband. Fear of what others might say if they saw her indulging in the affection of another. She knew, deep down, that Fiske wouldn’t want her to suffer like this. He had given her his blessing, told her to find comfort in his absence. And yet, the guilt tore through her. She didn’t want to move on. She was still Fiske’s wife, and always would be. Her heart ached for her husband, and somehow that same heart longed for the affection of the elf next to her. When she shared these fears with Derear, his answer was reassuring.

"I feel no different from you…I feel like a horrid person. And I will always be my wife's husband… We will never be them to one another, GiGi, and we shouldn't try. But we can be each other to one another. A comfort to us, and an honor to their memories."

He understood. He understood so well the strange ache of loving someone who was no longer with you, and the guilt of finding solace in another. He didn’t ask her to forget or let go. He simply offered space beside him, to sit in their grief together.

It was dangerous, this feeling. ---

The song that played:

(At this point of the story, she's still very hesitant and is taking her time getting to know Derear. But she's finally not in denial of her feelings.)

--- Day 4 of the Daily Writing Challenge

Another day. Another coin. Another slow step toward unraveling.

Leo had picked up more than just dust and bruises during his time in Undermine—he'd acquired habits that would have once disgusted him. Now, it was gambling halls instead of grand stages, whiskey-soaked nights instead of refined soirées. He threw away his gold as easily as he threw punches, often side by side with his best friend in taverns that reeked of sweat and smoke.

The drinking, the brawling, the reckless spending—it was all a carefully veiled performance. A façade to keep the beast within him sedated. For something monstrous stirred beneath his skin, clawing and gnashing with every breath he took. It whispered promises of liberation, of fire and ruin. The voices had grown louder, more demanding, and he had long since stopped trying to silence them. Now, he merely tried to drown them.

Self-soothing had become a foreign concept. Comfort? Impossible. All that remained was distraction. And so, day after day, he repeated the ritual—wager, drink, fight, survive.

And in those moments—the brawls especially—there were flashes. A second of bloodlust. A heartbeat where time slowed and he knew... he could win. Every fight. Every foe. Every damned soul that crossed him—if he just let go.

If he let it out.

But—

No.

It cannot be released.

He could feel it, coiled in the marrow of his bones, waiting for a moment of weakness. And though the temptation burned hot and sweet, Leo remembered too well what had happened that day. The day it escaped.

And he still wasn’t sure—if it came forth again—whether he’d ever find the strength to lock it away once more.

The Man in the Mirror

How long had it been now—months? Time no longer moved forward; it bled. The ache remained, crawling beneath his skin like rot, and with it came the slow erosion of care. He no longer bothered to maintain the elegance he once demanded of himself.

Leo sat in front of the mirror, in the room he shared with his best friend, GiGi. They had spent more time together lately, but even that comfort couldn’t reach the hollowed-out place inside him. He stared at the reflection in silence.

What looked back at him was not the man he once was.

Tired. Unkempt. Drained of all luster. The refined image he’d once guarded so fiercely had collapsed into something raw and unfamiliar. The past few weeks had been an endless theater of pretending—charming smiles, careful posture, polite conversation. But behind closed doors, this was who he had become.

He leaned closer to the glass, pulling at his skin, grimacing at the sight. “Pathetic. Hideous. Worthless.” The words rolled from his tongue like venom—an incantation of self-loathing. He’d begun to repeat them daily. They were a lullaby for the creature inside his chest, the one that twisted and stirred, hungry for ruin.

It wanted out.

It wanted to destroy.

And gods, how badly he wanted to let it.

He imagined it: giving in fully, tearing through everything that dared to exist near his pain. Letting the world burn just to match the wreckage within him. But something—some fragile tether—kept him from collapsing entirely. Not out of hope. Out of fear.

With a snarl, he balled his fist and drove it forward— The mirror exploded beneath the blow, shards flying like tiny daggers, scattering across the floor. His reflection lay in pieces at his feet, broken just as he felt inside.

With a ragged sigh, he pushed himself from the chair, stepping toward the ornate mirror across the room—an oval of gold, encrusted with glittering stones. GiGi’s mirror. It had become his salvation and his curse.

He stared into it, and slowly, the ruin faded. His features twisted and smoothed into the mask the world was allowed to see—flawless, composed, radiant. A lie, but a necessary one.

Only once the illusion was complete did he move, drifting from the room like a ghost wearing borrowed flesh.

It was morning. Time to play beautiful again.

@daily-writing-challenge

It was the first night of her three-day journey with her new travel companion, Derear Gartois. They had settled in Hearthglen for the night. Derear had arranged for her to stay in a townhouse while he took quarters in the barracks. As a thank you for his thoughtfulness, she offered to prepare a home cooked meal of baked chicken browned to perfection with roasted slices of lemon, potatoes, and onions; along with a side salad. After taking the time to dress for the evening, the two sat down at a table set just for them.

She had braced herself for a strained dinner. Just the day before, she had confessed there could be no romantic intentions as her heart still grieves and mourns for her family. On the ride to Hearthglen, she learned that Derear too had known loved and lost, that his wife and two children taken from him seven years prior. The revelation came in just before reaching their destination for the night.

At Hearthglen, they had gone their separate ways to tend to minor errands before regrouping for dinner. When they finally sat down to eat, the conversation drifted with ease from faith to beliefs, from daily routines to memories. While his words were thoughtful and kind, she felt her mind reeling. His life seemed to have some sort of structure, where hers had unraveled into chaos. She no longer had Fiske and Eris to anchor her to this life or to give her purpose and that truth hollowed her.

Noticing the shift in her demeanor, Derear recited a poem to which lighten the mood. Wishing to avoid any more conversations that might trigger her or send her down a downward spiral she asked him to recite another. To which, he obliged but instead of another unknown poem, he began to recite the lyrics of a song. A song she had wallowed in the first time her husband went missing. Unlike the first time, GiGi didn't allow herself to feel. She hasn't allowed herself to sing. Didn't allow herself to wallow in her pain. No, like a coward she ran from it. Numbing any feeling with drugs and/or alcohol. Yet here, unknowingly, he had unearthed the rawest part of her.

Her lips parted in stunned disbelief. “How…?” She whispered, her voice trembling, eyes welling up with emotions. Derear stood instantly, offering a napkin with urgency of someone who knew too well what it was to break apart - her. Then, a comedic act happened; a magical portal opened beside them and a unknown man stated he was there to deliver her weekly care package from Ellisar. What timing? A slight breath of relief slid from her lips, looking towards the package with thanksgiving… and then the thought crept in. Fiske could teleport to her too. So why hadn’t he? She understood the logical reasons. But logic could not soothe the storm within her. The tears flowed harder and faster then before. Shaking in anguish. Derear reached for her and pulled her into his arms; and her composure shattered. She sobbed into his chest, her tears soaking through his shirt, mascara smudging against him. And still, he held her. Patient. Grounded. No expectations. Just quiet understanding in his slow, soothing touch.

“I’m sorry…” She choked out, pulling her swollen face away from him. Her small and raw voice continued with, “Please…” She didn’t even know what she was asking for. Please don’t let me fall. Please don’t leave me like this. Please don't hurt me. Please don't see me like this. Please… anything.

“I won’t.” Was his simple, and yet certain answer. He didn’t need the rest of her plea. He had said that same thing over the years, in the grief that lived in his own aching bones. Soothing her, he added “Don’t apologize…Never for that.”

She felt the rush of emotions collide together within her: embarrassment, gratitude, confusion, and relief. She was being seen. Not for her strength. Not for her beauty. Not for the persona she wore like armor. But for the woman beneath it all, aching and afraid. It was the beginning of her believing that hope in others might not be lost after all.

Art by @BmRoles

The song he recited.

"Where is that damn demon when you need him?!"

GiGi stormed through the twisted paths of Felwood. A rage that burned beneath the surface. "He's always there, until I need him!" She fought silently to herself in her head. She's been drowning in her grief, trying to make peace with Fiske's decision to stay with the Drust. But now .. she was furious!

Once she reached the shrine, she roared. "Where are you?!" The woods fell silent almost shuddering at the power behind the voice that boomed out of her.

Within moments, Brawilith appeared, lounge against his shrine and idly picking at his long nails; with an expression that was infuriatingly too calm for her.

"We have to get them back!" GiGi's voice cracked with strong emotion. She knew he could feel it. He always did. He had always found himself slithering into her thoughts. Always trying to provoke her into something. But now? Now, he was silent, and it pissed her off. Now, when she needed a fight, he refused to give her one.

Brawilith sighed. "We can't."

The woman stiffened in defiance. "You're telling me that for all your power, for all your damn knowledge, there's nothing we can do? That I just have to…accept this?" Her fingers twitched at her sides, itching to do something… anything.

The massive doomguard tilted his head. "I am telling you…" He spoke smoothly. "…that we are outmatched. The Drust’s magic is ancient, they do not fight as we do. They do not follow rules you can easily break." His bright gaze darkened. "Fiske understood this. That’s why he’s there. Not here." Those words aimed straight to her already fragmented heart.

GiGi's breath hitched, her body trembling. "So, I just what? Let them keep Fiske and Eris?!" The words ripped from her throat like a blade, cutting her deeply as they left her lips. Clutching her chest, she broke into a violent sob.

Brawilith exhaled deeply through his nose and his smug smirk faded from his lips. "You think I don’t want to tear that realm apart and take back what’s yours?" His voice was quieter now, laced with a sense of something more dangerous. "But I do not have that power. And neither do you. If we force our way in, we die. Or worse they die, GiGi. You don’t get your husband back. You don’t get your child back. All you will get are graves."

Her vision blurred, her body still shaking with helplessness. "I can’t just do nothing!" She choked out. She had survived the horrors of The Maw. She had fought, killed, sacrificed all for what? To lose everything and everyone in the end?

Sensing her despair, Brawilith stepped forward curling his fingers around her cheek and neck. Forcing her to meet his burning fel green eyes. "Then find another way." His voice was low with warning. "But know this. If you do, you lose everything. You will never see them again. Do you understand me?"

She hated him. Hated that he was right. Her shoulders sunk down with brokenness, and he drew her into an embrace, hoping the lesson her would settle in her mind: That her fire can burn her, as easily the world around her. Imps began to gather, feeling the buzz of her turmoil. She wanted to scream. She wanted to fight. She wanted to break something. She wanted to kill. She wanted to feel like she had some sort of the control of the matter…..

But she had none.

She was utterly powerless.

She had been left with everything she needed to send out letters; paper, ink, and her wax seal. Harbormaster Hastings had seen to it personally. With tear streaked cheeks and trembling hands, GiGi poured her grief onto the pages, writing to every shipping company she could think of. Asking for assistance in the search for her husband Fiske, their daughter Eris, and the missing crew of La Barca, and made mention that she was staying at the Stormwind Harbor, in case they needed to send word.

One company, The Deadeye Shipping Co. replied within the hour, stating, "Deadeye will investigate as soon as possible. If there any new leads, do let us know." For that, she was deeply grateful and comforted at the fact her pleas where heard. The rest remained silent.

Her mind spiraled into many directions while staring out at the harbor, watching ships come and go. Until suddenly a blaring horn was sounded.

"HORDE VESSEL ON THE HORIZON!!"

The shout rang out throughout the harbor and guards scrambled to their posts, cannons locked onto the goblin airship that encroached towards the Stormwind’s docks. GiGi stood frozen as the chaos unfolded around her until her eyes caught sight of the small, green figure waving a flag of neutrality and hollering over the engines’ roar.

Jexdel, a goblin she met at the Diamond Lounge in the Undermines was one of the recipients of her letters. She remembered during first meeting, her winning over a dice game was that he owed her a favor. And that favor was called in today, as she was in need of the Spark-Strong Shipping Co.'s resources.

She expected some sort of reply, but she did not expect him to come himself; and certainly not into the heart of Alliance territory without invitation or permission.

"--Simply pickin' someone up. Not here to be starting any trouble."

Harbor Commander Sharp was a man that followed protocol and procedures, but having a familiar relationship with Jexdel, he gave warning as a courtesy, that if Mr. Spark-Strong did not fallback he would have no other choice but to strike down the airship.

GiGi acted swiftly, paying a dock merchant for a dinghy and fought through choppy waters towards the airship. Noticing her approach, Jexdel lowered a mechanical lift and helped to pull her aboard, offering his hand as if this was all natural.

"What are you doing here?!"

The first words out of her mouth, puzzled that he would even travel there for her.

"… Pickin' ya up?"

His tone was light, but his eyes said otherwise. Jexdel, too, knew of this type of loss. His wife, Grizzks, had vanished under mysterious circumstances, three months prior and he’d been searching ever since.

"If anyone knows about tryna find their significant other is me. Ya can either come with me…and distract yaself..or ya can stay and jump at every seahorn that blares in the docks. I dunno about ya but I know which option I'd take in ya shoes."

She hadn’t expected this kind of kindness from a stranger. She hadn’t expected someone to actually show up. And yet, here he was risking Alliance hostility, and his own safety to answer her call. Wordlessly, she stepped aboard The Andromeda.

They searched together for what felt like an eternity. There were no leads or clues of La Barca to be found. However, in the end, GiGi found herself an unexpected and reliable friend.

Art by @shie_0123

Her lifeless stare wandered about the establishment, blurred and glossy. One bottle already lay empty at her side, and she was halfway through another.

“When Jacinto’s light was taken from this world…” she slurred, voice thick with her drink and memory, “I felt everything go dark. Like someone had snuffed out the stars." Motion an explosion with her hand and blew. "My best friend. Was just gone.” Snapping her gloved fingers. "Just like that." Her teeth clenching as she fought the weight of her memories. “I stood on a cliffside, ready to jump. Do you know that? I didn’t want to live in a world without him… but…” Sucking her teeth and swallowing hard. “But Yelrik found me. Pulled me back. He… he understood. Even though we weren’t together anymore, he held me in place. Built me back up from the rubble I had become. No wonder I loved him so deeply. Our relationship was volatile but when I needed him the most… he was there.”

She took a long, burning sip from her glass. Her voice dropped as her eyes glazed over. “Then he went to war… and never came back.” Her head tilted, as if searching for an answer somewhere in a foggy haze. “I was with Fiske by then, but Yelrik’s death still pained me. Left a hollow echo inside.” There was a pause. The glass in her hand gave a soft clink against the table as her fingers twitched, taking one long moment of silence.

Then abruptly, continued. “When I lost Fiske the first time, I walked through literal hell to bring him back. Nearly destroyed myself in the process. I would’ve, too, if not for Phylok. Gods bless him.” Her words cracked around the edges. “I’ve loved others… but Fiske and I? We’re the same. Our souls, they… fit." With her hands she demonstrated, slipping them together and interlocking her fingers. "Losing him means losing myself.”

She blinked slowly. “They made me believe he was dead—THOSE BASTARDS!” She spat, raising her glass high in a cheers. “But you showed them, Bay! Didn’t you?”

Her cheer faded into a long and deep sigh. “And now look at us…. You’re gone. And I’m here - dying. Slowly. But this time… this time you took Eris with you.” Mumbling some inaudible words and cusses.

She clenched her jaw, drawing in a deep inhale from her crystal cigarette. “She was my miracle. My answered prayer. My daughter.” Her voice cracked into a whisper. “And now… I’m left with nothing.”

She slammed the glass down. “He said he would never leave me again, you know!” Her voice rose to great bitterness. “Men lie. THEY ALL LIE!” Her gaze slid onto a nearby stranger like they weren’t even real.

“Do you know what it’s like to make life with your own body? To give your essence, your soul, to craft something perfect… only to have it ripped from you?” Her flushed face twisted with unbridled rage. “He is my soul. She is my life. Without them…” She gave a choked breath. “Without them, I’m nothing.”

"I am cursed to be alone…"

Finally, the goblin bartender broke their silence with a soft grunt, polishing a glass. “You want another bottle, doll?”

GiGi blinked, slow and heavily as she stared at her glass. She let the silence linger before answering.

“…Yeah.”

Art by @BmRoles

"I am sorry for the pain this will cause you." His words resonated in her mind. Anger could hardly scratch the surface of what she was feeling. How could it? There were so many words that fit: Betrayal, Heartbreak, Misery, Despair.

The moment she was able to leave, she flew. The violet strands that were her wings carried her far. She knew not where she was going, nor did it matter at this moment. As she flew, the harrowing cries came from her as her eyes grew more red from crying, her throat sore as she screamed.

Time was lost. There was no way for her to have known how far she traveled, what time it was, or even where she found herself.

Landing in an abandoned town in what she could only pin down as a remote of Feralas from the trees, vines, brush, and ancient kaldorei structures, she lost herself entirely. Her skin stayed purple, and her eyes shifted from silver to purple too.

It was no longer Zariasona in control.

When she did regain consciousness, she found herself in the middle of a small village of no more than several wooden huts. There was no sign of life, and all that was left were the remnants of the fire. The huts were completely charred, decimated, and extinguished. The only silver lining in this was there was no sign of life around. Whoever was here managed to evade whatever it was that had happened to her in her upset.

It was just another thing to add to her list of growing pains. Hearing rustling in the brush, she gasped and her eyes snapped to the movement in vain. Finding nothing, she took this as her cue it was time to leave.

Tears continued to stream down her face, her agony growing. She flew from the remnants of the town, unsure of where to go now. All she knew is she was going anywhere but home. There was no way she could return after that.

(TW: DO NOT IGNORE THIS PLEASE. There are Illusions to abuse and Graphic injury, Drug abuse, assault, kidnapping, abduction, all the terrible evil things. Given the nature of a city run by bruisers cartels and Gambling debts that put lives at risk, This is the sort of place that attracts Scumbags. And Trist's old "boss" is very much here and thriving.) The discordant twangs and plunks that filled the office Jerrico had commandeered for his stay in Undermine were grating and wearing on his last thinning nerve. He leveled an icy glare at the goblin ‘Mickels’ and his more stoic cousin or brother or… some variation or combination of the two. They looked pale and uneasy despite playing with the instrument that they’d been sent to retrieve. Racko hung back taking his payment as he always did, and luxuriating in the high before the blood had even been cleaned from under his grotesque nails.

Sly. Lazy, and baritone Jerrico spoke, “What exactly is this about gentlemen.”

“L-look Jack, we didn’t sign up for this level of rough-“

Jerrico held up his hand silencing the protest, “I'm sorry, I thought I hired professionals.”

“You did! We’re the best there is! But you didn’t pay for the brutalizing, what Racko did was-“

“What I asked him to do. If you take issue with how I do business you are welcome to no longer be a part of it, I am certain other cartels would have use for you would then -not-?” This was already irritating and he did not have the time to argue with these whiney little goons. “T-the guy you sent us for, he was loaded… he knew you- He’s not some old whore like you said… He might have- connections-” Mickle protested. “Oh- I’m -counting- on it.” Jerrico chuckled. After all that was the idea. He hardly had any interest in ‘reconnecting’ with his long estranged product. Trist was significantly harder to control the older he got, the more known he had become, that damned Nestor and his Crimson Curtain peddled everything but Jerrico’s drugs and whores and the old man had sunk his manicured claws into the talent along with the ideas of standing up to -the- Jerrico Archstone. But now… Little Rat had married up- and done rather well for himself… The lute would fetch a price when he ran sobbing to his meal ticket that it’d been taken, surely the Noble would be inbound to meet - “It represents a -RISK- Jack.” The first goblin argued, Mickles nodding along, a twin pair of uneasy faces rolling eyes up to him, “And risk begets -reward- Jacky.” Jerrico sneered, and snatched the neck of the instrument bitterly, gloves still on. He wasn’t about to forget this patchworked thing had burned a man before. “You got what he had on him- AND the payment he forwarded for the escort on top of your fee. Risks are -inherent- in this business gentlemen. Now if you are quite through begging for scraps… I have another meeting. Five minutes ago.” “That’s -bullshit- Jacky! You had Racko pulp the guy’s LEG, and worse! That ain’t business its-” “Sending a message. That I am awaiting the answer for- get. Out.” His patience was thin as it was, and he -felt- Her there. Waiting. A silence so thick it was… suffocating. “What if he’s got PEOPLE!?” “That Isn’t my problem. Out-” He brandished his revolver then, another thing He’d stolen off the kid… it was lovely actually, and personalized. Jerrico thumbed the hammer and squeezed the trigger pointedly but not all the way. The pair scrambled out swearing abandoning Racko to his glazed eyed High in the back of the room. Once the door swung closed Jerrico holstered his new toy and eased off the trigger staring after the two idiots. He tossed the lute onto his desk chair with an angry twang of protest from the instrument and perched against the edge of his desk taking a breath and rubbing his temple. “They have a point… What’s so special about this kid’s husband?” Jerrico asked the back of the room, he didn’t look up as he started disassembling and polishing Trist’s revolver. Hands the deepest violet it was pitch and seemed to drink the already dim light of the room stroked Racko’s dazed features, and he moaned a soft pleasurable sound as a voice answered from seemingly nowhere… Velvet and soothing, “What dull creatures… they do not consider life or pain unless there is monetary profit.” The melodic caress of the Mistress’ voice was like being fed glazed sunberries from the vine it made Jerrico rigid and unsettled, but he never showed it, “Not much point of anything if there isn’t profit, Tits.”

The shadow stepped away from the addict as he basked in his high, eyes inking over into black-blood crimson as he pushed the last of his doses into his bloodstream. “Small minded as they are in stature then…” She laid a tender hand on the Hob as he hissed then luxuriated back into peace, the sort of peace that only came when the voices came so loudly… they ceased to be understood and only obeyed all while pumping his body full of power to conquer the worlds beyond worlds. She cooed a soft encouragement, “You though have had the ambition to refine our interests into something mutual profit… and power.” “Look, Tits, I asked a question, you can tell me you don’t want to answer. You aren’t here for small talk, and business is good. What’s the deal?” Jerrico huffed as he reassembled the firearm, having cleaned and inspected it out of reflex. “Did you receive a response to your note?” She asked. “Not yet. Maybe the Little Rat’s not as important to him as you think.” “You speak so ill of him… and yet in all likelihood you are his sire… I thought mortals loved their offspring.” Jerrico snorted, “If that little waste of my spunk is actually mine? Daddy’s in for a pay day when my ‘son in law’ comes to pay ransom now aren’t I. I love -that- to be sure.” The shadows did not seem to understand, they tilted their head and mused, “Curious. The motivations are so… vast… it is was makes you all so fascinating and easy to manipulate.” He thought she was going to vanish then, the conversation seemed over which suited Jerrico just fine. The bitch was cagey to say the least. Abruptly however, her voice came again, “We are assessing him. And we will not be far…” “That’s not creepy. Whatever. Am I getting my gold for this risk? The prick had a point; that little Rat is not worth the headache they seemed to think had been caused, and that tracks.” “Ah… yes… How much would you say this risk is worth.” “Considering bodily potentially to my person? I’d say the Prince Kale’Thas’ vault- and his crown even if its got a sin-stone attachment now.” Jerrico snorted. “Hmm… Very well…” “Excuse me?” Jerrico paused half lifting the rolled fel-weed cigar to his lips. “Gold is no object to us.” “Like hell it’s not, you’re the one who has us booming… You’re making me a fortune…” “We are done with this conversation. Your earned reward will arrive shortly…” The Dim parlor brightened and the oppressive weight of silence and darkness peeled away as the shadows did. Jerrico gasped for breath having… not realized what a chokehold it’d been to endure and swore. He wiped his face catching his breath just to find his nose bleeding “Fucking creepy ass bitch…” He lit his cigar and busied himself using Hypernia’s rose-holes as an ashtray, seeing as no one could seem to make it play, but she made a hell of a weapon, and the little Rat’s blood was still drying in the wood grain.

(TW: DO NOT IGNORE THIS PLEASE. There are Illusions to abuse and Graphic injury, Drug abuse, assault, kidnapping, abduction, all the terrible evil things. Given the nature of a city run by bruisers cartels and Gambling debts that put lives at risk, This is the sort of place that attracts Scumbags. And Trist's old "boss" very much here and thriving.)

My escorts in the Undermine were as expected from a crew of eager goblins. Admittedly I hired the ones that I paid up front for the service, thinking I wouldn’t need them long and it would have me on my way faster. A hob and a pair of sharp as thumbtack bruisers were eager to assist me to their car. I didn’t think I’d need them to just tour the new city, but I knew my being escorted would put Leo at ease.

Over the last few weeks I had felt Leo’s awe and his delight. This city scratched itches he’d long neglected and the goal today was to surprise him… to come visit him at work as he so often did me. I had the dice I’d gotten for him rolling like worry stones in my hands as we drove, and I saw the tacky opulence of the city in neon and spotlight for myself. We raced past a stage that looked like a proper Sax-on-the-Beach venue with smoke machines and a shoreline with pink flamingo floaties, and I could almost picture all of us singing there for a crowd.

“Nice guitar.” One of the Thumb Tac sharp muscle-guards chimed from the seat beside me. It pulled my attention from the city flying past. His large Hob bruiser grunted his disapproval at the attempted conversation, but I wasn’t about to be unfriendly.

“She’s a lute actually, her name is Hypernia.” I offered by way of small talk. I smiled at the Goblin who regarded me. He was unreadable, but something like… amusement simmered on his pinched features, his olive green skin a warm and inviting tone and a face that looked like he flashed a lot of smiles, he seemed friendly enough.

“That So? Yer Lute’s got a name? A gender?” The snide comment made me immediately reassess if he was friendly or an asshole as he smirked clearly thinking me either a madman or dim.

“I’ve just always called her that... Do you play?” I asked, trying to stay light and unbothered. Most didn’t quite understand why I was so attached to Hypernia, this was nothing new, though this time it did get under my skin. My question was met with chortles and laughter, derisive and cruel with all jagged edges and bitter cynicism that seemed to be too constant in this city.

“Nah. But our boss does. Fancies himself a performer. Jack of all trades he is. And Racko here; You should let him play ‘her’ some time.” The driver indicated the silent looming Hob beside me. I offered him a smile, he simply glared ahead.

Undeterred I kept smiling up at him, “I’d love to hear some time. I actually teach music, and I could give you a lute to play, just not Hypernia.”

“So -generous-“ the first goblin snorted, his friend, the driver scoffing a laugh as he took a hard turn down one of the alleys.

The Hob, Racko, finally looked at me, then Hypernia where she was strapped to my back. Something about him made me uneasy abruptly. The bloodshot eyes, and tracks of dark marks on his arms that were only visible now that he’d shed his jacket for the drive and he twisted it in his grip.

Unsettled, I opened the bond, a set of strings between Leo and I that had formed when our souls stopped understanding things like distance. I’d been meaning to surprise him so I had flooded my end with music and nonsense, so he could safely ignore me and enjoy himself… but I had to know I was getting closer to him.

I wasn’t…

*”Trist?”* There was alarm in the thought knowing that I was so -close- but getting farther away from him in Undermine. The concern and panic was strange, but I didn’t have time to focus when a heavy leather jacket was yanked over my face and I felt the bite of a needle in my throat. My eyes watered as I tried to think back something to Leo, anything, but all he could feel would be my shock then a lazy haze of dizzy comfort… a familiar aftertaste and just nothing for a moment.

I awoke in agony… no dice in my palm and Hypernia’s comforting weight missing from my back. I tried to stand to assess… no remember what happened, but my leg wouldn’t move… for a frantic panicked moment I felt it wasn’t there at all but no… instead it was swollen and bashed in with some brutal blunt thing and seeing it twisted unnaturally with a bone clearly broken… as well as the illness brought on by whatever remained of the drug in my system had me bringing up my insides in violent dry mouthed wretches.

How long had I been here? Where WAS here? There was no -sun- here no way to find what time it was…

*”TRIST!!”* The screaming in my head wasn’t mine and there wasn’t enough room with the blinding pain in my being and for the gravity of the sound of Leo’s dread. I gripped my head and hissed at the sting. My hand came away bloody and it was hard to see, and despite the blow to my head my leg and side were what screamed in pain as loudly as Leo did in my mind. 

*”I’m here.”* I answered… though I had no idea where ‘here’ was… and my eyes blurred. I was such an idiot… I made him worry, I could fix this.

*”Where is HERE!?!”* His anger was like a surging -din- in my mind monstrous in its demand, it was his Star-eater, I would have been the same if I had lost his voice, his soothing presence on the other end of the strings I had been him not so long ago. I just hoped he couldn’t feel the pain… not that, please don’t share that…

I started to sob then… my once wounded right side felt like it had been punctured, and my brutalized leg was a ruin that made movement near impossible. Who ever had done this knew where to hurt me… knew where I had been injured in my past… and yet all I could think back in reply to Leo was *”They took Hypernia.”*

*”Trist I don’t CARE about that right now, where ARE YOU?!”*

*”An alley there’s… some dumpsters on fire… and… I think some rat-folk… They took your gift too… I’m sorry.”* I wept then… dragging myself and my useless leg to curl against a wall. It made me realize the sting in my side was a fucking -staple- with a note attached to me, the realization flashed a hazy drug addled memory of it being literally stapled onto my side and my screaming… Maybe I should be glad I’d been drugged because that should be hurting a lot more than it was. I ignored it for now, punctures were better kept in rather than ripped out and my leg was the bigger problem. I placed both my hands on my leg…. I had to fix it before Leo found me, if he saw me like this… He could actually cause a problem. *”I’ll… get it back Just need a second.”*

I forced out a broken sobbing tune and tried to weave myself back together, but the bone wasn’t right… it felt like it’d been mashed into pulp brutalized. Flashes of memory I was fighting to forget came to me, the Hob had done this… he’d done it with purple heartwood and kintsugi and I realized just how many times people had used Hypernia as a way to beat me in the past… Figured it'd happen again it always did.

Hurry. Hurry Hurry Fix it! I urged myself. I was sweating as my arms manifested with the much needed extra hands. They were sluggish and the effort was dizzying as they stopped the bleeding and tried to weave my bone back into place but were only partly successful, the fractures were going to heal -wrong-.

I tried to keep singing but I cried out tears stinging in between the lyrics. What the fel was the point of being able to heal if you couldn’t fix yourself?!

I felt him before he was there, a force of violence and shadow that burst every electrical bulb that he passed, a being that swallowed up the underground metropolis in his wake. Ithilios was there the next second as I leaned back against the bricks of a leaning apartment building. Angry cursing and expletives came from the open windows trying to figure out what the hell happened to the lights.

Weakly I looked up, eyes running with tears, the worst of it… I’d fixed the worst of it... I could only hope he couldn't see the extent of it, I mustered, “Heya Midnight.”

The Star-Eater looked at me… saw the dried blood… whatever they had done to my face and the note stapled to my side. His voice boomed with thousands more echoing his anger “Give me one good reason. That I do not destroy this entire block… this entire city right now, Sunlight.”

“Because I need you…” I whimpered, “Because I… because I know who did it and he isn’t supposed to be here…”

That made the Star-eater swell, boiling and more bursts of electrical sockets erupted and fizzled out. “Who? Did this to you.”

I winced forcing myself to stand limping on the crooked mending Leg that I was going to need to be looked at by someone other than me. Leo already knew… he knew my soul… he knew the ones who had tried to break it… and I shook my head trying not to say his name… to give him power. “He took Hypernia.”

I said stupidly… like Leo could give a damn about my instrument right now when I had just been assaulted…

“WHO!?” The Star-Eater boomed, shaking the whole bloody cavern.

“Jerrico.” I whispered, and I was once again… a scared child having been forced to obey on pain of hurt… I thought I had escaped him. That he’d just gone off and died on me… I’d even hoped for that. Instead he had waited for me to do something reckless… like to go and see my Husband as a surprise.

The endless rage within him drove the creature before me, but rather than charging off into the city he enveloped me in his arms and black at pitch miasma and tendrils of smoke swallowing me into the dark and so welcome starless night, He was my Mate trying to steal me from the whole world and nodded. “Okay… Okay… I am getting you home.”

The ice in his voice was terrifying and it wasn’t even meant for me. “I’m sor-“

“Stop… I’m taking you home.”

Parts to be Discussed:

A Brief Primer on the Void

Characteristics of the Void

“The Void and You” (races that have merged with the void and what that means)

The Void Dimension

The Shadow & the Light

A Brief Primer on the Void

According to Chronicle, at the very beginning of everything, there was only the Light. As the Light shifted and moved in great waves of cosmic motion, it inadvertently created pockets of cold nothingness. These pockets, absent of any Light whatsoever, gave birth to the Void, an entity of utter chaos and destruction [World of Warcraft Chronicle Volume I].

At its core, the Void is a force that seeks to consume everything and destroy or enslave every soul in the universe [Audio Drama: A Thousand Years of War, pg. 20]. Because the Void originated in a dimension outside of the physical realm, it is incredibly difficult for powerful Void beings to manifest on the plane of reality for extended periods of time [World of Warcraft, Chronicle Volume I, pg. 13]. Despite this, the Void has found a way to spread its influence unfettered through “maddening whispers” [Page: Whisper Gulch, NPC: C’thun Dialogue]. These whispers are quite invasive and hard to ignore, leading many a feeble mind to their doom [Audio Drama: A Thousand Years of War, pg. 36, Quest: Arkhaan’s Peril, NPC: Magister Umbric Dialogue].

Void and Shadow are interchangeable terms [World of Warcraft Chronicle Volume I].

Characteristics of the Void

As opposed to the Light, which seeks one path and shuns all others as lies, the Void seeks every possible path, seeing them all as truth [Audio Drama: A Thousand Years of War, pg. 37, NPC: Magister Umbric Dialogue, Twitter: Steve Danuser].

It’s possible that mortals succumb to madness when exposed to the Void’s whispers because they are unable to discern what is truth and what is falsehood. Just as the Void believes every path is a true one, mortals believe (or want to believe) that everything the Void is telling them is true. This misconception leads mortals down paths of depravity and betrayal, especially when motivated by the Void’s desire to destroy everything. Alleria Windrunner, however, is able to maintain her sanity in part because she can sift out the lies and distinguish between the Void’s memories, plans, and desires [Audio Drama: A Thousand Years of War, pg. 37, Comic: Three Sisters, pg. 10].

Similar to how the Light views the Void as a malevolent force that must be stopped, the Void likewise considers the Light a corruptive entity. A couple paragraphs from “A Thousand Years of War” describe this best:

“[Alleria] saw the Light moving through the cosmos like a ravenous predator. She saw it touch the minds of Azeroth’s mortals—a touch that corrupted them forever. She saw generations live and die in invisible chains, bound to a force that granted them fleeting moments of peace in exchange for absolute obedience.

She saw war. She saw the forces of the Light striking back against the Void. She saw darkened worlds burning in holy fire. She saw millions of creatures encased in luminous crystals the size of mountains, sustained by the Light and unable to die. Warriors of the Light were monsters, corrupting and consuming everything they touched” [pg. 37].

The Void does not understand the bonds between mortals and that there are some things that cannot be corrupted [Audio Drama: A Thousand Years of War, pg. 38].

The Void and You

Although many have succumbed to the Void, some of strong mind have achieved mastery over the shadow without falling prey to it. Most prominent are the void elves and void ethereals, although one Broken was successfully infused with void without falling to madness [Dungeon Journal: Seat of the Triumvirate: Zuraal the Ascended].

There are two groups of void ethereals: the Ethereum in Netherstorm and the Shadowguard on Argus. The former manipulated void energy in the Naaru manaforges and bonded it with their own energy, turning them into a creature called a nexus-stalker [Quest: Potential for Brain Damage = High]. It is not specified how the Shadowguard become void ethereals except that they succumbed to the void and do not have control over it in the way that Locus-Walker or Alleria do [Quest: Shadowguard Incursion, Audio Drama: A Thousand Years of War, pg. 19-20].

Although it may not seem like it, there is a marked difference between void users and void beings. Void elves and void ethereals have merged with the void and become void beings, whereas shadow priests only wield the void, making them void users. For more about this, there is a very good post here covering the distinction, however I will leave you with one more thing to consider: a line from the “A Thousand Years of War” story reads, “But now Turalyon was not simply a wielder of the light; he had become one with it, like most of them” [pg. 17]. Blood elf shadow priests, for example, are only wielders of shadow and not one with the void in the sense that Alleria and the void elves are.

(Sidenote: As a point of interest, some night elf shadow priests draw their shadow powers from a belief in “the dark side of the moon” and that “the light of the moon casts a shadow” [TCG: Anduros Silversong, TCG: Kintara Wintermoon].)

The Void Dimension

The PC has entered the Void, the dimension where the Void Lords and void beings exist, multiple times [Quest: Into the Void, Quest: Throwing Shade]. The Void dimension is described as a place of “nothing” with no light, sound, or ground, although it is represented very differently in-game [Audio Drama: A Thousand Years of War, pg. 34, Twitter: Jeremy Feasel]. In fact, when one enters the Void dimension in-game, they seem to enter a muted mirror version of Azeroth full of void creatures (similar to the Emerald Dream) [Quest: Into the Void, Quest: Throwing Shade]. It is unclear if the Void is really meant to be a scape of “nothingness” or if it somehow operates similar to the Twisting Nether in that it can create strange reflections of real worlds [Audio Drama: A Thousand Years of War, pg. 7].

The Shadow & The Light

Even though the Light once existed as the only being in the cosmos, it has been said many times that the Void and Light cannot exist without each other [Quest: What the Soul Sees]. Conversely, it has also been said that the Void and Light cannot exist together because they are antithetical in nature [Audio Drama: A Thousand Years of War, pg. 20, 28, 29].

Very few mortals use both the Light and Shadow, preferring instead to give in to the powers of one over the other. Despite this, the Light and Shadow are incredibly powerful forces when used in concert because they are the two very base cosmic forces of the universe. As Locus-Walker pointed out in his lessons to Alleria, neither the Light nor the Shadow alone are responsible for determining destiny. One cannot use just the Void or Light to tell the future accurately, but Alleria, with her knowledge of and mastery over both, saw visions of the future that neither force alone could have foretold. It is this unique foresight which enabled her to see that the Void was lying to her [Audio Drama: A Thousand Years of War, pg. 36-37].

Hozier perfoming in Perth, Australia

❝ He took me to church. ❞

Leo sat on the chaise in the living area, his gaze lost in the flickering fire, with only his fox, Vega, for company. The distant sounds of children’s laughter and playful screams drifted through the air, a reminder of the life outside. Meanwhile, Trist and their newborn slept peacefully in another room.

What would have once been a dangerous moment of solitude, a time when his thoughts could turn dark and consuming, had become instead a rare moment of stillness. For the first time in what felt like forever, his mind felt empty—quiet. The usual din of voices, the constant clamor of thoughts that had become as familiar to him as his own heartbeat, faded into the background. They were still there, no doubt, but so much a part of him now that he barely noticed them.

From the far corner of the room, a voice broke the silence, cutting through the trance Leo had slipped into. "Yeh be doin' dat more and more of'en."

Leo blinked a few times, as if clearing away the cloudiness from his thoughts. "What are you on about now?" he asked, his voice low, not even bothering to turn and search for the source. He knew that voice all too well.

"Da way yeh look out inta nottin' for so long," the voice continued, its tone thick with an ancient accent. The footsteps came closer, soft and measured, despite the immense size of the Zandalari who owned them. "There be nottin' in yuh eyes when it happens. Like yeh be lost, like yeh be gone somewhere. Where do yeh be goin', Voidsinga?"

Leo sucked at his teeth, a faint twinge of irritation flickering in his eyes. "So I need a reason to enjoy silence now? You used to be so happy to see me find peace in these moments, and—"

"Dat was before them moments became sometin' else. I feel da air aroun' yeh. It gets tick and troublesome."

"Thick and troublesome? Please... you are reading far too into it."

"Okay... so where yeh go den? What was it yeh were tinkin' about just now? No lyin'."

From the moment they met, Zy'chaal had sworn to be honest with him, and Leo had vowed the same in return—no lies between them. "I…" Leo began, his voice faltering, the silence that followed heavy with unspoken tension. Finally, he admitted, "…I don't remember."

Zy'chaal pointed at him, approaching with more assertiveness. "See? Dat not be right. Dere is sometin'. Sometin' happenin' to yeh."

With a long sigh Leo leaned further back into the chaise, "I am just tired- exhausted even. A new baby is rough. I know Trist is doing most of the work but it is still taking a toll on me as well. It'll be over soon in a few months."

"And den it'll be too late."

Suddenly, Leo shot upright in his seat, the abrupt movement sending Vega skittering out of the room. "Stop talking like that! There is. Nothing. Wrong!" Each word dropped like a thunderclap, the final one laced with a growl that rumbled deep in his chest—a warning, primal and raw. His voice, now carrying the edge of his Star-Eater form, sent a shiver through the room. His eyes burned with unbridled fury, and, as the troll had warned earlier, the air around him grew dense, heavy with power.

"Dere it be..." Zy'chaal approached showing little to no fear. He kneeled before Leo and looked at him with worry and sorrow- an expression he's never showed before. "Da raven fear for yeh too."

Leo's nostrils flared, his irritation palpable, but at the mention of the raven, Saiya, his expression softened—if only slightly. His features returned to their usual calm, though the annoyance lingered in his gaze. "If she’s so concerned," he said sharply, "why hasn’t she come to me about this herself?"

"She fears yeh, Voidsinga. She know what yeh are capable of doin' to her if yeh let that power overtake yeh. Best to not be in yeh way when it happens."

A look of guilt crossed Leo's face at the confession, "She really thinks I will succumb to something that much?"

"We both do."

A look of surprise now, "I am fine. I feel great, honestly."

"I taut yeh were tired?" Zy'chaal tilted his head, calling Leo's bluff. "Yeh lied."

Leo stared down at his hands, turning them over as if expecting to see the transformation his companions claimed to witness—but there was nothing. No sign of the monster they feared. His voice wavered as he finally admitted, "I did lie. And I’m… so sorry for that."

Pressing his palms against his face, he let out a heavy sigh, the weight of his guilt pressing down on him. After a moment, he rubbed his face and lowered his hands again, his expression weary.

"It isn't like yeh, Voidsinga. Sometin' is happenin' to yeh. But I will remain 'ere and watch yeh. Just like I promised. I hear dem whispers too. And they be sayin' a lot about yeh. Yeh be important to them and everyone 'ere. Dun let dem take yeh." Zy'chaal placed his large hand at Leo's cheek. "Stay wit us."

Leo raised his hand, letting it rest gently atop the one at his cheek. His gaze locked onto Zy'chaal’s, searching those eyes for the comfort he desperately wanted to find. Every fiber of his being longed to make that promise, to give the reassurance Zy'chaal sought—but something deep within him resisted, a quiet, stubborn force that refused to yield.

No lying.