#alinith

There was no sunlight in the Maw.

And death knights didn't eat.

There had been before him and since, other mortals into the Maw. The Ebon Blade even said some had gotten out again, but Lyren was less focused on that.

The light in the Maw was weak and pale, more shadows than light. And never changing. Nothing changed. It could have been days or weeks or mere hours. It could have been months. Time keeping devices and magics flowed too strange to be depended on.

Magic was in technical abundance… but it was that which came from souls. A literal river of them and Lyren hated it, hated every bit of arcane magic he needed to use that needed more than he could give it. So he rationed his own magic, and ate conjured mana buns and ignored the way his internal fire didn't like this place of Death at all, the his dependence had to be on arcane over fire because at least there was an outside source to sift through and transform into arcane if necessary.

At least he had brought his sword instead of using a staff as was more common focus when he had a companion that preferred throwing their face at the enemy. It was the one upside.

He was surviving. Not thriving. But he was surviving - and it was finding Darnath, the first time, that nearly outdid him.

A phantasmal shift in his position brought the devil to stand just behind her. A hair distance between their physical bodies made the difference, but not without the auras he projected to caress her somewhat. “ I take you very much seriously, and I am curious as to what you already know. “ Copper-addled breaths were expelled in his words across her ears.

A lit bit of laughter was administered ad those hungering lips grinned in her confessions to the Father of Bats. A broken soul, indeed. There was a reasoning for her boldness. “ I can assure you that while I’m not exactly one to possess fleas and fur, I am very much a threat level that would rival such. But, I prefer to be calculative rather than rely on brute strength. Tell me... what is it you hope to gain from all of this? “

[ @alinith-draven ]

Weeks had flown by, countless hours of Jackary fighting over the painful lacerations along his scales as the world slowed down around them. Alinith had chosen the place lost in time knowing months there would be mere days in the rest of Azeroth. It was there that he had watched the dragon suffer in the attempts to fight off the nightmares.

Night after night, day after day.

Laying quietly, Jack had curled against Alinith after a particularly harsh episode of fading in and out of the corruption, by now his eyes were blood red, tainted to the core. Tears had brushed down his cheeks once he realized his outburst and while he hadn’t asked Alinith to end it yet, he was finally losing the battle.

“Jack... There is something we need to discuss...”

Alinith had been right. There were things Jackary needed to say, he needed to get off his chest in the brief moments of clarity he had left within his body. The man equipped the tired dragon with several pieces of paper and a pen, offering a way to write down his thoughts.

If there is something you need to say... Say it now.

It was a short jaunt from the Thalassian Pass, in the mountains between the Eastern Plaguelands and The Ghostlands where ley lines crossed and caused the land to be supple and generous. Teir remembered how quiet and serene it had looked when he first arrived, long abandoned by the previous owners. It was a deed that he now held, from a family he’d born no relation to but stepped up as the Heir of Direbourne as named in Belinor’s records. The ruins that had crumbled over the centuries were mostly overgrown and barely worth a second glance. But that night, when Teir first looked across the valley he had seen more than just a forgotten sanctuary. He had seen the potential to give his son a legacy.

It was time to put down roots. And try as he might through his years, he’d not accomplished his simple goal. Because before, he had lacked more than just the means to create. He had lacked the real will to become more than what he selfishly wanted for himself. Even now he could feel the desire to become more than just The Shadowlord and take control of his life. And as he stood at the gates of the Estate a year later, he could finally see what his dream was becoming.

Donavin approached behind him and stood at his side. He folded his arms over his chest and said nothing as if already understanding that his Father was in quiet contemplation. His mind was racing with things he needed to say and yet he understood the need for silence. He wasn’t expecting Teir’s hand to reach out and hold his son’s arm, looking at the rabbit that was embroidered there.

Teir exhaled, his hand going to his ribs where the familiar ache plagued him and he closed his eyes. After a moment, he spoke softly.

“Do you understand why I was angry?”

Donavin nodded. “Yes.”

Teir shuddered, turning toward the vineyard.

“Father...” Vin beckoned and Teir paused. “I don’t think you understand why you are angry at me.”

Teir turned to look at his son with curiosity and Vin watched him. He was thankful that Teir was looking more like himself these days, but not at the expense of what he’d done to get back those years. “Enlighten me.”

“You’re angry because he never said yes. Because having me around was the next best thing to holding on to his ghost and I said yes to her.”

The Shadowlord grimaced and gripped his side. “No Vin. Your Dad and I decided long ago that you were more important than anything that he and I might ever want. And now you’re going to have to ask his permission, too.”

                                             | - Music - |

For weeks, Jackary had been locked up within the Violet Hold, Khadgar’s pleading case that Jack wasn’t unstable and it had simply been temporary demonic influence didn’t stand up with the Council due to being what he was… Something that couldn’t be trusted with power. Even still adorning the Kirin Tor uniform, the cell he had been placed in was cramped and cold, making the dragon lethargic in his movements.

Fingers endlessly slaved over a small comm, tired eyes, blurred from the healing damage to the side of his face focused as best they could on the electronic piece. It wasn’t until he had heard a soft voice escape within the earpiece that his failing attention span was rejuvenated.

“I look … a mage…”

Jackary sat up slightly, mindful of his healing wounds as he pressed the push-to-talk button, calling out as best he could. If he could hear someone, perhaps they could hear him. “Hello? Hello! Is anyone there?” The mage strained his voice, even if the humming of the caged wall drowned out most of it as well as his signal, he didn’t want the guards catching him.

“Hello? You sou… you shoul.. get your co… check… dude.”

Frowning, Jack tweaked with his comm even further, ears pinned back as he felt a desperate sensation tug at his chest. He wasn’t sure who he was talking to but he had hoped if they heard him… Atlas would. “Atlas command this is Jackary of the Naga’s Fury.” he stated firmly, swallowing hard in hope.

“Atlas… command is… ahh… wait. Ja.. Kid… al… Al…okay—you…”

What had come off clearly as Alinith’s curiosity and concern was only chopped up on Jackary’s end, the powerful magic within his holding cell tarnished everything into barely audible words. “Atlas command this is Jackary of the Naga’s Fury!” he called out loudly in frustration, baring his clenched fangs. The hand coiled a bit tighter than he had wanted, briefly shutting off the comm which created a squawk from the dragon. Fingers were quick to fumble it back on, ears raised in hope to hear the faint voice again.

“Cra… okay… he–…” Zots and sparks sounded out followed by the muffled noises of what could have been swearing. “Ja… Ya th… CAN. YOU. HEAR. ME?”

Having twisted the comm a bit too loudly, his voice caught the attention of the guards who were approaching his cell. A panicked tone escaped as he pressed his comm button again. “Mayday Mayday this is Jackary Chaoti of the Nag—!”

“What’s that in his hand?!” The cell door opened, one guard had pointed to the chained mage on the floor. The second guard was quick to follow suit. “Take it from him!”

“N-No wait! Give it back!” Jack lamented, wincing when his Atlas comm was yanked free of his bandaged grip. The last of his hope pulled away which left the communication device open. In boiling anger, the dragon pushed himself to stand, fighting in an attempt to reach it.

The brutal noise of a thud echoed over the comm, eerily followed by a simple “STAY DOWN!” command;  the worst sound anyone on the receiving end could hear came shortly after. Jackary’s comm went quiet in the midst of a pained roar, the small blip on Atlas Command’s security once again lost as quickly as it had arrived.

                                                | - Music - |

Toiling over maps and new pages of the worlds, Jack was still focused on focal points of journeys ahead, ports, where open waters and claimed territory was. His map had become an intricate detail of everything he had learned while on the Vengeance. He was losing time doing it, having forgotten that hours passed when exhuming all effort during the midnight hours instead of coiling into a warm bed with his mates.

“DARNATH!? FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS DARK AND EVIL WHAT THE FEL ARE YOU DOIN’ INVOLVING YOURSELF WITH AN ABOMINATION LIKE THAT?!”

Ears twitched, pulling Jackary from his concentration from the shrill, the noise came from his shared quarters. Brows furrowed with concern, registering the voice in the back of his mind as the one person Jack was attempting to impress - Darnath’s father.

The muffled conversation moved around the area, clearly Darnath was on the move and he chalked it up to being kicked out of the bed by their assertive Warlock. For the longest time, the only noise he heard was... 

Mavas?

Silently, the barefooted Mage eased himself out of the map room to peer up, blinking at the silhouette leaving the Crow’s Nest, his crew’s scent still fresh to his nose. Perhaps it was rude to eavesdrop but he did so anyway -- his trust in Alinith, when it came to Darnath, still wasn’t fully on par to what it should have been.

“I don’t approve of you being with him still.”

The Mage tilted his head slightly in confusion, the more animistic features displayed when he dared to keep the decorated ears stiff, not warning to sound the bells still attached to the tips. 

Being with who?

Peridot hues squinted in concern and consideration, the idea that no matter how hard he had tried to be buddy-buddy with the father figure had quite possibly yielded no results in the desire to be accepted and liked. No, he thought, it couldn’t be about him, that would be silly.

“WHAT?! Fuck you. Like. Completely. Fucking… I knew, I KNEW this was going to happen. Between you, and Jack, and everything else going on you’re going to wear out this fucking knight body and I’m going to keel over and die.”

“What’s going on with you and Jack?”

Jackary’s ears wilted slowly, the guilty look on his face undeniable at the question. His gaze was quick to turn down and away, confused and in a strange new pain that he hadn’t felt in his heart in a long time.

Regret.

A hand clutched his chest and fingers dug into the fabric, unable to even hear the rest of the conversation from the pounding blood flow drowning and deafening his ears. A stumble overtook his normally graceful movements and without so much as a hint of hesitation, the Captain of The Fury reverted to the scaled beast he truly was, so surprised that he had lost his ability to keep his illusion.

Slinking and skittering to the cabin, Jack craned his neck up when he found himself on Azurick’s side of the bed, his small nose pressed to the Warlock’s arm to see if he was still awake or not. The tired mumble and soft pats of a hand to his lap indicated Jack was still welcome and without question, the dragon jumped up into the bed and onto the blond.

“Oof...”

A concerned purr escaped, a stressful tone mistaken for comfort as small claws kneaded into the blankets atop Azurick’s hip. Fronting the full weight that he wasn’t used to holding, Az settled when Jack finally laid down, arm and tail linked together for very different reasons. There, within the dark of the bedroom,  Jackary silently buried his face against his mate’s hip to hide in thought.

What was going on?

For more than half my life I've had this hole in my chest. Not a metaphorical hole but an actual sucking void that was left behind from a foolish attempt at cleansing scourge magic. Unable to be seen from the outside of my flesh, it is seated magically inside near my heart and has been feeding on anything I consume.

Magic, pleasure, food and even the strength of my life force; it has been slowly picking up speed and causing me to over-indulge in so many vices as if it were a demonic mouth, whispering to me for years just so I could get enough for both myself and what we've always just called, The Void. My strange abilities and talents for magic kept in in check for a long time but there were always precautions. Again I feel the need to talk about all of this in case it can benefit others and perhaps prevent anyone else from thinking that they can accomplish such a cleansing without consequences, no matter how powerful they are.

With Chahni's strength in time magic, she was able to place a spell around it to slow its hunger down. It was a good fix but that was all it was. A sort of fix that can last me and yet still make me very much aware that it is still there - this hungry and magical mouth that steals my sustenance. 

I'm rambling. But only because I now sit in this anti-magic room, denying myself of food and pleasure of any kind to starve it into submission. Dad has found a way to remove it but we had to make both the Void and I weak, so it was susceptible to his machinations to get it removed. After so long I don't know what it's going to be like - or what I'm even going to be like. Will I finally get my confidence back? What was my life like before the Void? That stain of a magical vampire, vacuuming the very life I consume.