#azryl

Day: 9

Injuries: 1

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Leather boots carried the stealthed rogue over the uneven and war marked terrain, a pace or two ahead of him the Lightforged woman carried forward. Days of nothing but recon and mapping out the area had given the pair a better idea of the scale of their task and the layout of the land around them.

The walls of their encampment trickled into view between charred and fallen trees in the distance.

For the most part the mission had been uneventful, their task of finding where hostages were being held and freeing them proving unfruitful until today.

A small makeshift camp had shifted location in the last few days. The area around it swarming with a plethora of Horde standing guard. The pair were to report back and help in capturing the camp in the next day or two.

Fhaliona stepped through the trees into the clearing with Dizarak in tow. A few feet from the gate he unstealthed, standing a little taller. A large hand lifted to massage and roll his shoulder with a grimace.

"If it is still bothering you, perhaps you should have it looked at?" The Draenei pointed out, flicking her gaze at him as he caught up to her and walked along side her.

"S'just a little tender is all, not everyday you have to single handedly catch a falling lightforged and all her armor now is it?"

Fhaliona narrowed her eyes, their little misadventure the day before had left the giant with a dislocated shoulder. The ground having crumbled beneath her hooves unexpectedly. If not for the Ren'dorei's quick thinking she could be nursing much worse.

"Hey, don't give me that look. Not my fault you are far from light on your feet." He poked fun reaching over to flick her pauldron, "S'ides I got it back in just fine and it'll stop aching. I can still use it just fine."

Weaving their way through the tents full of soldiers and footmen, the two fell silent. Their own pair of temporary quarters rest on the outskirts of the masses, a small fire pit, two tents and a table they had snuck out of the mess hall. The less they had to be around the others the better off the pair of battle buddies felt.

Dizarak slipped into his tent, undoing his leathers and slipping into a looser fitting shirt without sleeves and a pair of thin leather pants. The photo frame and his pack of cigarettes palmed before he rolled himself onto his cot.

Slowly he felt himself losing track of the days, what point was there in counting when you didn't even know how long your stay would be?

He frowned up at the ceiling, eyes welling up with heated tears, swallowing thickly as he tried to fight them off.

Home.

He wanted to be anywhere but here. The sting in his heart as he watched the Bloodelves patrolling the encampment they had found had left him uneasy.

For once he felt as though he were behind enemy lines. The Alliance may be his people's new home but his heart had chosen differently. He'd found sanctuary in a sleepy little island and within it a place and lovers to call his own. Times like these forced him to recognize the world and war around him. How forbidden others would see the bond he shared with his mates.

Pinching his eyes shut, a single bead of salted tear rolled down his temple and into his braid. Though not braided as well as if Azryl had done it, he had been content with his attempt at recreating it after his bath the night before.

Dizarak tapped the cigarette case against his palm until one slid out further than the others, tucking it between his lips before carefully lighting it. Learning over, he deposited the case next to his folded leathers and rolled back into a more comfortable position. The large male took a long drag, letting the smoke roll from his nose and linger in the small cloth covered space.

As the final pull soothed his mind, the spent butt was set atop the ashtray he brought and he slipped into a shallow slumber.

Khaeris lay in a bed that wasn't her own. The sheets were rich. The rug she put her feet down on each morning was thick and soft. The curtains over the window were finely made. The window itself looked over the Court of the Sun, not the Bazaar.

Pollux hadn't come home that week. Other Pollux, not her Pollux.

Gone on a business trip. Zandalar? Had he said that? He supplied the military, he'd said, but was that what this trip was?  Maybe somewhere else. She realized should probably be ashamed she hadn't listened closely, but she wasn't ashamed. Despondency came and went in waves.

Though alone every evening, Khaeris could not be disappointed in this. He was too strange. It was both too familiar and too jarring to see his shape. His silhouette was complete and unmarred. His eyes were green here. It hadn't been his 'birthday.' He was generous, and he'd been kind to invite her to stay at his home. It had startled and touched her when he'd let her remain even while he'd left. She could have been anyone.

But he was not her Pollux.

The furnishings leant to squared corners and sleek lines. The same as her Pollux. He still had a rather large and frequently used tinkering workshop in his home and technology was all around her. He had the same smile and the same sense of humor. His voice was the same, even if the cadences weren't exact. He didn't hold his tongue nearly as much as her Pollux.

And he was whole. He wasn't directly in the military--a supplier, not a front liner. He was confident in ways her Pollux was not. He was less jaded, less scarred--both literally and emotionally. He was rich and flaunted it, reveling in the attention and winning people over with smiles and charm so smooth you might not even feel it wind around you. His suits were custom tailored to him, the fit flattering and the styles new.

It felt surreal. It felt subtly wrong. Everything here did. She rolled over, heart quiet. She wanted to pretend she didn't belong here. But she knew she should have been comfortable in this universe. She should have felt some sense of home, right? This was her origin. She would never see the place (the time?) that was Home. She should settle in and find her feet.

Instead, she pulled them in under the warm blanket. Tomorrow, she'd carve out time for another look. Another heartbreak.

___________________________

She had been shocked, and she knew her complexion had gone ashen. The records were complete. Woodenly, not musically, she had thanked the clerk as she absently floated out of the Registrar office.

Pyraelia was dead here.

Dead. Of her hemolytic disease. Her sister had not saved her. No pact. Her parents were still alive... Fiorenze had a daughter she'd given her sister's name. But her Pyraelia was not here.

Khaeris found her steps had taken her, unsought, toward the Shielded Mind. It was not the Shielded Mind. Not the clinic where she'd spent hours on the porch laughing and talking with Pyraelia.

It was a general goods market of shops. She dashed down the steps as soon as she'd climbed them.

____________________________

Was the war the same there?

Had her Helal been at Darnassus? Was the Kaldorei city saved in the other timeline? Was everyone safe and celebrating the defeat of the Legion? Please. Please please.

She'd seen the Battlemage. His runes had shimmered as he confidently strode the streets of the Royal Exchange. She'd sought him out, but then hesitated. This wasn't her Helal. His eyes were both intact. His gaze had caught on her with no recognition, though his wolfish grin for her had been all too clear to read even across the Royal Exchange. It had made her heart jolt and her eyes widen.

The Registrar had smiled benignly at her when she'd looked at those records, too. They were starting to know her well.

This was not her Helal. Her best friend. Father to four. No, this man was still Heir. This man had no children. Had not married Aeni. No children. She had ducked beyond the crowd and lost him, all the while stroking the runed and enameled bangle her Helal has procured for her.

__________________________

Andaeros Dawnflare. His strong shoulders and that big, confident smile. ... But. But not following Feywren as a bodyguard.

Not her Andaeros. The Registrar knows that he's still a Spellbreaker. Never discharged dishonorably. Never broken and rebuilt and better for it. No. All the swagger she'd seen on this one made more sense as the pieces slide into place. Did he still tell terrible puns? Did he do calligraphy? Tattoos?

_________________________

They don't let her near the Adzior estates. Her Peacock and the monk are not there. Who are they, here? Ashraen was no where to be found.

_________________________

Caz wasn't with the ballet any longer. Their old coach couldn't say where he'd gone, but he had been gone years, before the Scourge.

________________________

Kenarin didn't own a shop; neither in Dalaran, nor, from what she could gather, in Stormwind.

_______________________

And Iloam had never existed.

______________________

Every night Khaeris finished climbing the steps to Pollux's home, her dance bag hanging over her shoulder and the scraps of her notes from the Registrar's office crumpled in her hand.

This was supposed to be her time.

If that was the case, why didn't it feel like she belonged in this world? She felt more like a figment of imagination manifested. A half-forgotten story.

She slipped into the stranger's house and made herself tea, as silent and as heavy as a ghost.

The large Ren'dorei glided around the kitchen, daring to be as loud as he wanted within the empty house. Somehow he'd managed to convince the loves of his life to leave and spend the day together despite their refusals unless he came with. For that he was still a wee bit shocked but grateful, even more was his shock to hear himself ask...no beg, Taoln for his help in the kitchen. The pair had limited time to pull off the planned surprise and nerves threatened to slow the progress. Pots and pans steamed, aroma's wafting from them and spilling into the living space as the pair worked harmoniously throughout the small kitchen, the last time Dizarak had allowed anyone in the kitchen while he worked his culinary magic had been with the fiery red-headed monk. 

The tips of his ears flushed as his mind wandered down memory lane, swallowing thickly as he set back to work. His ear flicked at something Taoln had said and he caught himself auto answering and pointing at something, what the smaller male had asked he had no real knowledge but thank goodness his body knew what was going on.

He slipped over to the island in the middle of the kitchen, the thick wooden cutting board aiding in a soothing sound of chopping as the bone knife sliced through vegetables with ease. 

Mismatched eyes glazed over as once more his mind trailed to the various events the year had already held for them, gaze shifting to the brilliant purple guitar perched in the corner of the living room just in view. The corner of his mouth upturning as he thought of how sneaky the pair had been in obtaining it and somehow making his hatred of his birthday harbor love instead.

"You alright there, Diz?" The silver haired male asked grinning up at the void giant, grinning as if he'd caught a child staring. 

"Hmm?" He grunted peering at the Mariner, "What? Yeah. Sorry."

Taoln offered up the plate of Spring Paw stakes ready for seasoning, "You sure? That air looks good and chopped." he pointed a finger at the empty cutting board, the wicked grin returning to his face.

Dizarak glanced down at the aforementioned board, his cheeks and ears deepening in hue at his embarrassment. He dropped the knife to the side of the board and held out his hands for the plate full of meat which Taoln placed in his hands with a soft chuckle before zipping off to the next task on the list handed to him upon his arrival. Dusting his hands off on his apron before diving in, the occasional glance over his shoulder to check on the bundle of nerves that was Diz.

With ease The large male set back into an even and careful pace, hand rubbing his secret blend of spices into the raw meat. ~~~

The Final candlestick was set in place, unlit until the proper time. Taoln clapped his hands together, beaming at their completed goal shining before them. His hands moved to tug the apron off his frame and fold it neatly, he held it out to Dizarak who was once more lost in a staring contest the the now set table.

"Dizarak?" he tried, reaching out to gently touch the larger males arm, his head tilted to the side. Mismatched eyes gazed back at the mariner, clear anxiety on his face. Quickly Taoln set the Apron on the back of one of the chairs before taking both of Diz's dusky hands in his own.

"You've no reason to worry, Diz. They are going to love this," he gestured to the set table and the slightly more dressy outfit adorning his tall lithe frame, "You three....the love here is just so strong, I know they will love this, you have to believe me."

Dizarak gave a small slow nod, he was right, he had no reason to fear. For once there were people who loved him for who he was, no expectations, no reason for him to doubt. A long deep breath followed by a sigh and a firmer nod in agreement.

"Thank you, Taoln. I couldn't have pulled this off without you." He tugged the man into a tight hug. "It's no trouble at all," he playfully squeezed the taller male before pulling away and snagging the apron again, "I should get going, they should be here any minute right?" Another nod. A moment later he was gone.

~~~

Before long the voices of his mates could be heard outside the door, Diz stood next to the table, his guitar slung over his shoulder and held in place. The handle moved, door swinging open and he broke into song, deft fingers strumming the guitar.

I'm desperate for changing Starving for truth I'm Closer to where I Started Chasing after you

I'm falling even more in love with you Letting go of all I've held onto I'm standing here until you make me move I'm hanging by a moment here with you

Forgetting all I'm lacking Completely incomplete I'll take your invitation You take all of me...

(Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a4_woZ-LUvM ) Mentions: @hinahinagray (Taoln) , @ashraenv @azadzior

The smaller of the sketchbooks he frequently used rested in his lap. Beside him a loosely closed box of macaroons, one of which he held pinched between two of his fingers as he tapped the end of his pencil against the empty page with his other hand.

The day has been fairly uneventful, breakfast with Fhaliona, debriefing, a strategic planning meeting, lunch, sparring and now relaxing.

What better way than to sketch? Or so he'd thought. No matter what he tried no art seemed to flow forth. Perhaps it was from being out in the open. He let his head flop back as he chewed a mouthful of the sweets Taoln had sent him with. Too much effort in moving himself to him the safe confines of his tent.

Dropping the pencil onto the open book, he leaned to the left and tugged free a cigarette, a match and the little photo frame. Once the vice was lit he tossed the spent match into the campfire, his hands returning to pry open the little frame, laying it out across the pages to peer at again.

"What have you got there?" The tone and accent in her voice causing Dizarak's head to swivel and peer at her with wide eyes, he relaxed slightly when his orbs met the Lightforged and not his Little Lapis.

"What was that look for?" She questioned lowering herself onto the log next to him "you look as though you are disappointed it is me."

Flicking him a knowing look full of tease.

A twist of the wrist and he pointed the remaining bite of the macaroon in his hand at her, "that's not nice, you do that on purpose don't you?"

Fhaliona laughed aloud, "Perhaps I am testing your worthiness by judging your reactions." She said with a shrug.

"Macroon?"

A sweet treat was held up to her in offering, she plucked it from his fingers and took a sniff before nibbling on it, her nose scrunching as she placed it atop her knee to remain.

"This is not what I was asking about and you know it," her fingers pointed toward the photo frame on his lap as she leaned over to peer down at him.

Mismatched eyes glanced back at the image, taking a drag of his cigarette before speaking, smoke rolling from his lips, "s'a Valentine's gift from my boys. You've seen Ashraen," he pointed to the firey red head's picture, his ear tips deepening in tone and a smile breaking across his face "this is Azryl, he's a medic. Kept me alive after the last time you saw me."

He spoke almost sheepishly, the weight of their last fight together lingering on his words.

"There is no image of Illei. Why? Do you not love her just as much?" She poked fun "I will gladly take her if you are not so attacthed."

A lofted brow above his void eye was all he gave before leaning to tug the cloth sleeve up over his shoulder to reveal the crystalline tattoo that represented his icy love.

Gold flecked lavender eyes widened in shock, "quite serious then, to have marked yourself for her is quite the show of devotion."

Crossing her ankles in front of her she leaned back to tug her own laced cigarette from her stash. She leaned forward touching the tip of her vice to Dizarak's to light it before leaning back to enjoy it.

"I guess I cannot let you die then, wouldn't want to upset her. Of course if I do then I can have her to myself."

"Real nice there Fha... what do you want me to do break up with her so you can have a go?" He snorted.

"No because then I would have to kill you and then where would I get these?" She held up her cigarette with a broad grin.

"Oh I see....that's all I'm good for then huh?" He snapped the photo frame shut and tucked it back in his pocket.

"You are good for many things, your height is a great for reaching tall places. You are mildly funny. I guess you make some people happy."

"I get it, I get it." He scowled in mock pain.

They laughed in unison. Relaxed until mission begins.

Azryl: I always intend to be on an edge so I can sleep face down and hang half off. YET SOMEHOW I END UP BURRIED UNDER TWO GIANTS!

Dizarak: *Snerk*

Ash: I mean, two big Bois and a medium, you're totally gonna end up smothered.

Dizarak: I don't like big spooning other giants, you're much easier to curl around.

Ash: Really? Wow. Alright.

Dizarak: Shut up I just lay on you. I feel bad laying on Azzy. He gets spooned you get laid on that's how this works. I know he can handle it but I just cant help but feel bad.

Azryl: *Az grunts and manages to get an arm out from under the pile that just gives a thumbs up*

Melisande receives a decently sized package at her tavern room door, named to her in Derin's easily recognisable hand. Inside is a new quilt, the cells thick and soft with down, and a pillow large and floppy enough to be a bed for Snorian.

"Melisande, as you expand your space, remember in these trying times to rest and find comfort anywhere you can. You'll help no one when run ragged. I hope that, in the absence of cottage nests to escape to, you can use these to begin your own.

It is perhaps poor timing, but I've been given the opportunity to study the Arcan'dor in Suramar with some very talented Shal'dorei scholars and I would be a fool to turn it down. Please keep everyone safe and healthy until I return. Azryl will be in charge of the clinic; please do everything you can to assist him and Tyrisdae while I am gone. 

Your friend, endlessly, 

From SS! 

Khaeris/Kharris doesn’t spend a ton of time fantasizing, so I’ve been thinking about this for a bit now.

Khaeris’s last sexual fantasy with someone she knows was probably more plan than strict fantasy. She wants to dance for Andaeros, and keep him from being able to touch her during. It ends very well in her plan. ;)

Someone they didn’t know? Hmm… *cough* It was probably with Azryl back when they first met. He rubbed her feet and she could tell he was good with his hands and knew how to use them on a body! >.>; 

Though that fellow that was the pole-prop at the last Tart show was very striking. /K fans herself

((I don’t think they’ve met, though I’ve seen you in game once. :3 ))

To whom it may concern,

I am writing this letter in hope that those who might be tending the wounded might have some information regarding two men who have been missing since the vanguard pushed into Draenor. Their names are Ralandis Adzior and his cousin Azryl Adzior. It is likely they would have been together.

Their family and friends are worried as no word has been sent of their status. I am reaching out to known healing outposts and hospitals.

Ralandis has a tattoo on the inside of his thigh that reads “Andaeros”. Azryl has tattoos of Pandaren Celestial motif. Both are sin’dorei.

If you have any information, it may be sent to Khaeris Dawndancer in Warspear or to CelestiaeNyghtwind, last seen in Silvermoon City.

Thank you for your time.

Sincerely,

Khaeris Dawndancer