Yelena Sunshield

The first time, it made her sick. Black-stained bile bubbled past her lips and out of her nose, to which it was vomited into a bush near the cemetery. Every attempt after that triggered a violent gag reflex and caused a migraine to tear through her skull. She was half-blind with pain by the time she fell back into bed at Syred's home.

The second time, it was after breakfast. It shouldn't have been. The second time, she had made eye contact with the squirrel near the front porch as she left, and that was her own mistake. Thinking about harming an innocent little creature like that made her lose her breakfast in Syred's rose bushes. Sorry.

There were frustrated rage cry sessions with Godric in the City, and he either pretended to not understand what she had meant by 'putting theory to practice' when it came to shadow studies, or he let it go in one ear and out the other. Her hair had grown out, and he enjoyed admiring the way an errant curl tucked itself away against her earlobe. It was cute.

The Third time, she was given a more sustaining meal and snacks that followed in case she vomited for most of the day again. Syred might have been a massive prick, but she was losing muscle mass and color to her cheeks because she was stuck in her own head. That, and, he was tired of cleaning up his shrubbery whenever she had a mental breakdown.

The third time saw her meander out towards the cemetery again. Yelena had grown familiar with the presence of the Light and the absence of it, what it felt like to be with her and what it felt like to be without. The cemetery was.. clearly still hallowed ground in the Cathedral's shadow. Perhaps that's why she threw up when trying to mentally mindfuck a squirrel. This time, her jaunt carried her across the Dwarven district, and towards the Embassy.

This time, she'd do it. She had to. Part of her wanted more of the tincture that Evelynn had given her to speak with her mother again. Better to hallucinate someone that had a foggy idea of what she was going through than to struggle by herself. Yelena had grown accustomed to leaning on her family for support over the years. But this wasn't something she could lean on her family for this time. Learning practical shadows from a rogue and learning about the void... that was something entirely different. The more she didn't want to lose what shadow she had, the more it felt like it was being warped into something else.

Something violent and dark. Cold and endless. Infinite. Something that predated the entire human existence... and that was terrifying.

Getting lost in thought made her journey go by faster. Stars glimmered in the sky, and moonlight filtered through the trees.. this was one part of the city that felt cultivated and lived in. A little corner of the world cut out for the Kaldorei before they had moved to Bel'ameth. The fruits of their labor still lingered in the woods around her. It felt alive, and it felt... homey. In a way. Pushing through trees and bushes, there was a quiet little copse of trees that had a perfect nook for hiding. She was to be here a while, she surmised.. many critters were scared of her, moreover, the wolf that hid in her chest. But if she stayed still enough, they'd come around.

Bullying the nerves out of her belly, Yelena took a slow breath. Her head dipped back against the trunk of a tree, and her ankles crossed in front of her. Not too far away, a few years ago, her father and Evelynn had told her that she doesn't need to be protected like her sister does. But don't be an idiot. The memory brought a half smile to life as she stared at the sky.

Nothing really changed.

Flexing bare digits at her side, her hands folded in her lap. She was sat like this for quite some time, and the moon had shifted in the sky by the time the bush rustled to her right. Yelena heard it before it happened, and keen eyes snapped to where the sound came from. It took a moment of steeling her nerves before she felt the cold dark creep up her spine. Focusing the shadow into a singular point, letting it gather in her neck and chest. It felt so cold she feared her heart might stop if not remedied soon.

A fuzzy little head tentatively poked out from the bush. Hop. An innocent little rabbit, staring at her with those wide, beady eyes. A nose wiggled, and a tentative hop was given towards her. It was adorable. And it probably smelled her snacks. The gag reflex began, and her stomach churned. Remember her focus. Sharpen her anger and wield it. Syred made a fantastic mental punching bag.

Fuck you for making me do this.

It was rudimentary and crude, but somehow she felt the shadow coil and tense like a loaded spring or a serpent ready to strike.

And then it did.

Yelena's expression darkened into a muted sneer, pushing her anger out towards the rabbit. The serpent struck. She felt the shadow spring free of her skull and dig straight into the little brain of the rabbit. It dug and twisted as if she were sinking her worgen claws into prey. A pained shriek left the creature, giving a series of stressed out hops away from her and in circles.

The cold pulsed in her skull. Rage. Rage. Rage. It wasn't a rabbit anymore. She was imagining it was Syred's face she was inflicting this pain upon. She imagined Malcom. The rabbit continued to scream in pain and hop in frantic circles around the clearing, and a cold grey stare bled into an inky black. Pulses of shadow continued to feed into the little creature; insatiable and starved for sustenance.

Eventually, the rabbit stopped pacing. It simply gave up. With a final wheeze, the critter flopped over. Unmoving, unbreathing, lifeless. The claws of shadow were sated. Reeling back into her skull, the euphoria radiated through her limbs like warmth from a fire. Yelena gasped, her head light, her heart fluttering as if she were in love. Catching her breath, she leaned forward slightly while her head spun. Blood stained her shirt and she wiped at her nose. It was a single trickle of darkened blood that was swiped away, but...

"Holy shit." She gasped, slumping back against the tree trunk. Did she want to do it again? The night was still young.... maybe it'll feel different each time.. more precise, more controlled. Less erratic, more specific. Glancing to her blood-smeared digits, she decided against it. Just in case she went mad and/or bled out in the forest.

Carefully, Yelena stood. She didn't feel any different, truthfully. Just the rush of euphoria afterward that had made her head light. She wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. Glancing to the corpse, her lips compressed. She could bring it home for stew later.. there was a lesson from Astrid or Varsen in there somewhere. Sighing, Yelena tied the rabbit corpse to her belt, and off she had gone to sleep and study. The next chapter was mind blast...

Hopefully, she could practice on a pumpkin first.

This book was foul.

Yelena agonized for hours after she and Syred returned to his home, cracking open the book for a moment before snapping it closed. Whatever inside of those black leather bound covers contained.. it was a different kind of darkness that she wasn't sure she liked.

It was a kind of darkness that set an unnerving chill down her spine, the kind that threatened to swallow her whole.

"What you want to do.. there will be no going or coming back."

"I know, mama. I'm ready."

"No, baby. You are a fool. What you seek to do now took me years of.." Juliana trailed, a distant look glimmering behind emerald eyes.

"Father told me of his trials.. briefly." She protested, and Juliana tsk'd, flicking her forehead.

"Ha.. his were a far different pain than mine, Lena.. I wouldn't subject my worst enemy to that kind of conditioning, much less my own flesh and blood. I towed a dangerous line.. one misstep, and I would have been crucified. Your father knew it, and your aunt knew it. Do you know what kept me going?" A loud silence filled the clearing as Juliana studied her daughter.

"Faith. Their faith in me, my faith in the order.. and eventually, you." Juliana said quietly after a moment. Her hand cupped Yelena's tear-stained cheek. "Use your faith to keep you centered. Forget the bullshit about 'there cannot be shadow without the Light', Yelena. Yes, there can. There is. Bottomless and endless darkness that the Light refuses to tread. You are a smart girl, baby.. keep your head." Juliana said with a smile as she swiped more of Yelena's tears away with her thumbs.

"Would that it were me teaching you instead.. I would refuse to see you rot to madness by yourself." She sighed, and Yelena scoffed after sniffling.

Blinking away the memories, she wiped away the tears that had rolled down her cheeks. Would that it were her mother here instead..

"Father would sooner burn this place to ashes than entertain the idea at all.." came distantly with a half-smirk that didn't quite meet her eyes. The soft azure flame of the hearth fluttered at her side as she slowly pulled the book back into her lap. Taking a steadying breath, she wiped her eyes dry and cleared her throat. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, Syred's methods were effective, and she appreciated his forward methods. She said she wanted to learn how to get into someone's head.. he delivered.

Delicate fingers curled around the cover once again. Flipping it open, she stared at the first page.

Chapter I

Shadow Word: Pain

Right... here went nothing.

"I only pray that the fool standing in front of me musters the courage to learn how to use his words and beg forgiveness from this dumb, silly little charlatan before he tries to patronize her for moving on."

She dropped his hands at once, studying his face for a long, silent moment before she turned to leave.

Yelena had been living the past six years of her life tense and at the mercy of someone long-dead before her time. Whether Holiday had meant to be malicious or not, her presence took a toll mentally and physically on Yelena. Melek had spent many sleepless nights with her as she cradled a fragile mental state on the cusp of fracturing.

It was a constant nagging, the constant presence and knowledge that someone was there, and she wasn't sure when her reality would distort. It was exhausting and frightening to be unsure of where she was when she was simply walking the halls of her home. One moment, she could be in Southwatch's library, and the next? The next she could be within the Scarlet Monastery reading scripture astride a fountain, flipping through the pages with hands that weren't hers.

Yelena stepped with a careful trepidation as she made her way back to her bedroom the night Evelynn and her father shared with her a boon and a blessing from the Light. Scripture from her father's own body emboldened by the warmth and fire within him and her stepmother was now branded onto her skin in a silent vow. They would always be there to protect her and her mind. A mind she was still uncertain was her own at present.

Deceptively delicate fingers trailed along the stonework hallway as she made her way back to her room. A grounding tactic, she had taught herself, but even still, the coarse stone beneath her fingertips could give way to smooth marble at any second. It set a tense edge up her spine and a taut line against her jaw. A familiar pull was felt against the back of her skull, and suddenly, the room became a tad brighter for but a moment. The scripture around her neck glimmered to life before the pull was banished swiftly, and all was calm in her mind once more. The battle between the worgen that roiled in her chest and the Scarlet apparition that haunted her was.. over?

She could cry.

Finally, her father had listened to her ailments. Holiday was always dismissed for being a casual haunting. No one but the other two Holiday effected would truly know the extent of the hauntings, but even then, they were never truly taken by the spirit like Yelena had been.

She was just about to round the corner to her quarters when she pressed her palm against the stone her hand drifted against. Home. This felt real. This felt... solitary. Peaceful. Tears welled in her eyes at this realization, and her breath left her in a shuddered exhale. Once again, her neck illuminated, the curious tug to her mind snuffed out. A feeling she would get used to in time, but now? She had no traveling companion. Her mind was her own, coupled with the wolf in her soul.

Yelena often overslept to make up for the nights spent awake with nightmares and conversations with the dead. But now, the night was young, and suddenly the younger Sunshield child was exhausted with relief.

Yelena hurried herself into her room, throwing open the door and stripping as gently as she could so as to not disturb the fresh bandaging over her shoulder, into a loose nightgown. Anything to throw over her head to make her comfort come quicker. The hearth was ignited to bathe the room in a soft orange glow and warmth, and finally, Yelena dropped into her bed like a ton of bricks.

She stared at the canopy above her head for a moment. Truly? No tricks?

Empty. Her mind was empty, save for her thoughts and heavy eyelids. Finally. A part of her was sad that Holiday wouldn't be able to speak with her anymore, but the majority of her was ecstatic. It didn't take long for her to fall asleep after that.

Her body sank into the mattress, soaking up the warmth of the hearth and the warmth of a new Penny that had jumped onto her bed with her the moment she fell into it, herself.

"Really..? It was that simple?" Yelena frowned tiredly, her eyes fluttering closed. Silence. Serenity. Certainty. Once more a sigh leaves her, and before she could think to say anything else, sleep took her exhausted limbs.

The rest of Lord Tristan's entourage enjoyed her family's hospitality within Stormwind's walls, but Yelena? Yelena stared out at the golden swaying fields of Westfall, caught in the cool springtime moonlight.

Everything was where it was supposed to be, right where she left it. Peanut had been happily purring at her side, content with the snacks and extra cuddles. Penny, on the other hand, had fast begun to make herself back at home on Yelena's bed, sprawled, belly up, and snoring away.

You are going to walk home, step through that portal, and talk to your father.

That thought made her smirk. It wasn't 'our' father, but hers. Somehow, she always felt like she was in trouble to some degree. She was a grown woman in her own right, but now she felt like a toddler with her hands caught stuck in the cookie jar, awaiting a spanking from her parents.

She wasn't blatantly disregarding Tristan's advice. She was truly heeding the words of the Deaconess she spoke to; practicing. Feeling the ebb and flow, feeling the warmth in her chest. Mantras and prayers.

Though Yelena was stubborn enough to keep trying until her fingers bled or she collapsed from exhaustion.

He can think it a hindrance all he wants. This stubbornness will keep us alive one day.

Running her fingers through the soft black fur of her cat, Peanut chirped softly in response to the touch, and Yelena sighed.

"What a fucking disaster. But at least I have a bathtub -in- my bedroom this time." She hummed quietly, peeking over her shoulder to the bronze tub through the slightly ajar door to her washroom. Her jaw rocked as she thought further, scowling.

"I even mentioned I had news. It's not my fault that everyone fucking disappears like the wind in the middle of the night. I thought that was my job!" Yelena continued, throwing her hands above her head, dainty sleeves fluttering about in her upset.

"It wouldn't kill anyone to be supportive of the idea, instead of treating me like I'm just some stupid little girl.." She continued with a frown.

"Maybe Mama was right, too. Monsters and stupid children aren't deserving of the Light's graciousness." Her tone quieted as her back hit the wall, shoulders wilting as she thought. Growling, she rubbed both sides of her face in her hands.

"Fuck.. am I really letting some stupid fucking slavers get in my head?"

Was that a trauma response? Probably. Will she acknowledge it? Probably not.

"And Tristan.. what does he know. Don't even get me started on that asshole." Yelena hissed, waving a hand dismissively as she pushed herself off of her perch, bare feet hitting the wood floor as she began to pace. The object of her ire and ranting, the sleepy feline at her window that frog-blinked at her in hopes that Yelena would actually go the fuck to sleep.

"How can someone be decent to talk to and so fucking frustrating all in the same breath?! I don't get it! It's like talking to a brick wall! A brick walk that thinks you're an impulsive idiot that needs to learn her way around a sword lest she stab herself!" She growled, whirling around to face Penny again with folded arms.

"I know how to use a fucking sword. Swords, daggers, a shield in all practicality... ugh. Uuuggghhh...." She snarled, digging her hands into her hair in frustration.

"FUCK HIM." She barked, loud enough to cause Penny to startle awake. Peanut and Penny stared at Yelena in groggy disbelief, scattering when the rogue stomped over to her bed and flopped into it facefirst. Pillows bounced around the trio until Yelena snatched one to cuddle to her front and bury her face into another.

"Stupid fucking.. shit... assholes..." was muttered into down feathers while her pets found their places draped over lithe limbs. There there.

Stupid, stupid, stupid girl.

Weak. You're weak.

At some point during the night, Burrich had been banished from her tent by way of the Confessor helping her into some proper clothes. A loose fitting shirt and soft pants to get her a little warmer than she had been. Despite the antidote and the Light weaving through her body and bloodstream, no amount of blankets or warmth could bully the blood flow back into her limbs.

Her face had been gently wiped clean, and plenty of fluids were at her disposal. Tristan, despite his frustration with the whole situation, had poked his head in and out periodically to make sure she wasn't dead. But the Lordling knew Burrich wouldn't leave her side while she recovered and that she was safe in his care.

The nausea had mostly subsided, except when she woke up wetly hyperventilating throughout the night to upheave remnants of glass and coagulated bile. She was paler, somehow, and the circles under her eyes looked more akin to bloody bruises. The times her eyes rolled open, they were still bloodshot and splotchy, but at least she could see. Slowly as she slept, her hearing returned, whatever hemorrhaging that had started being stabilized with the Light and antidote. Clots of blood dried against her ears but.. when she could stand and hold herself up for a bath, that would be worried about.

"I don't... care about any-anything else.. just get me my pendant..."

It was a phrase repeated to Burrich repeatedly until she succumbed to sleep. She remembered him smoothing the hair out of her face and quiet promises in between consciousness. Hopefully he heard her.

She couldn't stay awake long enough in between the day to know what was happening. Whatever chaos ensued around her was drowned out by the haze of recovery and exhaustion.

Slavers.

As if it couldn't get any fucking worse. Any of it. Kidnapped, stripped, drugged, and thrown in a floating prison on a ship going Light knows where. The main thing on her mind, however, was... the fact that she was kidnapped to be a shiny souvenir for slavers. It was hard to understand what she should feel. Anger, fear, sadness... embarrassment. She should have searched the fucking moss.

Yelena was suspended midair with a threadbare sack for clothing until she decided to rattle the confines of her cage and send it careening to the floor of the ship. Sideways. It was too small to fully transform in, the gibbet made for women and children and not worgen, but with the strength and ferocity.. at least she wasn't spinning around for hours.

But now, like the dozens of filthy men to be bartered and sold, she was naked. And condemned to lay on her side until she kicked out the door. Or someone came to get her. Burrich had helped her retain some of her dignity by scooting over some hay to cover herself with, but a few scraps weren't going to keep her warm and modest. It was times like this where she wished she had her long hair again.

Worry pooled in her gut; where was Rose? She knew her using her shadows was a bad thing. Yelena didn't know why, but it was imperative that Rosemarri never step into her shadows. But she did to save her. The image of the dead, crimson and marching, parting like an ocean manned by a terrifying messiah. Everything was red and cold and clammy, reeking of death and promises of forever. It felt wrong. Those weren't the shadows that Jakk taught her how to use. That was something else. Something wrong.

And Yelena couldn't protect her sister. How could she be Rosemarri's Holia if she was dead? How could she protect her like this? Naked and trapped within an iron birdcage. Bullshit. Her eyes burned, but she didn't trust anyone while she was like this. Her knees tucked themselves up, and her arms tightened across her breasts, those eyes, tired and burning, settled fiercely on the candlelight on the hallway at her side. Any shadows that moved, anything that tattled that large, stinking fat man was on his way, she would be ready.

They were dead. Anyone who dared get close enough was dead. Never corner a frightened, deadly animal.

"Light... shit-" Came grunted from her tent; her fine dress was long-ruined, the hem caked in mud and other debris as the Sayage entourage trudged back into camp. It would have been wildly inappropriate for her to petition some of the men for help with loosening up her corset, and it was absolutely an hour-long affair.

Yelena had taken many breaks in between laces; she thought her lungs and chest were going to burst. She wiggled and hopped around in her tent, and when her fingers couldn't reach some of the mid-back laces, her face flushed with anger.

Loosing a growl, it was a throaty sound that was definitely less than human, her shoulders forced themselves to relax lest she tear a muscle or break a shoulder.

"Bullshit. This is BULLSHIT-" she grumbled, flexing deft fingers in front of her to stretch them.

"Bu-" Yelena sighed, shaking her head. There was some etiquette to follow, and Burrich had probably snuck off to go see her sister by now anyway. Were there any women in this camp? She wasn't sure, really. Squinting, she caught her weapons belt in the firelight, and compressed her lips.

Waddling through more mud, she bent stiffly at the waist, reaching with effort, down to her pile of clothing. Forgetting to breathe as one of the bones of the corset proceeded to stab her in the ribcage, she whined out a breath and forced the spots out of her vision.

"This is considered fashion... fucking... torture..." She growled, buckling her knees and without being able to properly bend or reach, awkwardly eased to the right with a straight arm, wiggling her fingers at her daggers. Loosing one steel blade from it's place in a sheath, she could finally taste salvation; air.

Standing upright, she struggled to exhale again. Poising the dagger in her hand, she held some of her skirts out and plunged the sharp blade through the delicate cloth.

"Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you--" She grumbled as each lace and thread were torn open, slicing her corset clean off of her torso. Dropping the dagger wetly on the ground, she yanked the sleeves off of her wrists and shimmied out, the lukewarm air kissing sweaty skin like a breath of fresh air - it was close enough.

Gasping, she gulped in a breath of air like she had been strangled for three hours. It sure felt like it.

"It's only once a year, Yelena.. if that.. I hope it's fucking NEVER-" She grunted as she yanked the bodice off of her hips completely, wiggling said hips to shimmy free of the skirts, too. Yelena had cut straight through the dressing gown, too, and in a final hurrah, tore that off of her body, too.

Kicking the limp, damp with sweat and mud, cloth off to the side, there she stood, triumphant and naked in the middle of her tent.