#cahall

For each or any of yours.

Sevlaz "Misplaced plans with a guilty conscience."

Fenrag "A wayward man searching for his place."

Cahall "Haunting souls seeking redemption for the uncontrollable."

Erik "The carefree nature burdened with crippling doubts."

Qinhou "Steadfast friend struggling to keep up."

Mary "Untethered and lost but curious of her new role."

"And you?"

"Me?" The steward blinked as he looked past the floating plate biscuits between the pair. Coren's eyes unfocused for a moment and returned curious at such a question. He'd never thought about it very much. "I would say 'hopeful for all, but doomed by his fate."

"Cryptic."

The older looking man shrugged as he stirred his tea with a small spoon. "Life within an hourglass."

Everything was getting hazier by the moment as his vision focused in on the elf, the acting breathing was so tiring as he lay still under the eye of the watcher. There were a million and one questions running through his brain to ask, but the only one at the forefront was if he could just sleep. Sleeping sounded so nice at this point as grew stiller by the blink.

"I understand time is not something to really worry about, but I would like to insist on an answer sooner than later," the elf continued as he leaned closer into the orc's face. His skin was dark purple like a night elf's and the eyes the standard glowing yellow but there something far more otherworldly. There shouldn't be pupils. Sand. Swirling sand.

A smooth hand came to gently brush open his eyes again as he looked up at the elf who was smiling sadly as he was showing a hope in those eyes. "Sevlaz, it is time. Otherwise we will have to do this over again and I am loathe to do it again to you. Flowing is easier on you than it is to reverse it. Six times is far to many."

Six? Six times? How many times did he have to die?

"Six."

A soft nod given.

"Indeed my long suffering friend, hell is repetition and I do not wish you suffer in it any longer than you must. So please, could you give me an answer this time? You are chosen and I feel you best suited but I will not choose for you. Consent is key."

Consent. So tired.

Tired.

"Drat."

@daily-writing-challenge

The thick fingers gently traced through the water that coursed through the once barren plains that had been Desolace. It was maddening to hate the vibrancy that had returned to this land. To see green amongst dead earth, life wandering the lands, and the curse that had afflicted his homeland for so long had been washed clean by the coming of the Cataclysm.

And Cahall hated it.

He had hated it all. The swaying trees. The vibrant grass. The clear skies. It was all wrong. It had all been paid with such a price.

The Raincallers. All gone. Swept away by the tidal waves of restoration. Dead. His whole tribe. Gone.

"I miss you. I miss you all," his deep bass rumbled from his chest as he lifted his shaggy head to the blue sky. "I know you'd be joyful at the bounty here. But I just can't see it."

"You're all dead. And I," Cahall grumbled softly as he stood, adjusting the heavy reforged sword over his shoulder. "And I'm alone."

Thick hands would grip hard to the horns on his head. He could barely hold on tight enough as he began to flex his massive arms, pulling hard hard inward as he dug his head in. He could begin to hear a creak in the bone as tendrils of pain would splinter through his skull and into his hard gritted teeth.

It was a dull ache compared to what he had happened to his world.

Deathwing had returned and born on black wings had issued a roar of rebirth to Azeroth. Oceans rose, mountains toppled, and the sky was red with fire and blood.

A cataclysm.

The horns cracked further as he felt a splinter of bone stick into his hand, but the tauren continued to pull. Everything hurt from his horns in hand to the hooves buried in the sea drenched grey mud all around him. A warrior's body could put up with incredible amounts of agony but the agony of the spirit would drown them while breathing. Cahall was sinking fast and he didn't know what to do.

Bones buried long of his forefathers were strewn all about this new world that had been for near a thousand generations. The Princess's curse was broken and Mashan'she was free. Already signs of the buried life were beginning to break free as the sea retreated back from the former barren wasteland he had always known. He should rejoice at the green breaking through as it reclaimed it's place in the sun.

All the tauren could see was the bodies of his tribe littered in the mud.

They had called the rain and when it came it wiped them out.

A snap resounded in the silence of this new graveyard of both Kodo and Tauren. His voice bellowed in a streak of pain as he held two hunks of black horn in his hands.

He was the last of the Raincallers.

Now he must return them all to the earth mother, as tears streamed down his battered and bruised face.

Alone.

The cool breeze tickled across his green shoulders causing gooseflesh to rise along the bare skin as Fenrag breathed deeply of the windswept plains of Kun-Lai. Eyes of tarnished brown were shut as the student breathed deeply of the mountain's exhale, his nose taking the cool breath deeply as he felt it fill his lungs.

I'm older than he was when he died.

His heart skipped a beat as he opened his eyes to the world around him, the fear of that thought settling in the pit of his stomach. Fenrag had never thought that he would outlive his sire, no matter how absent Sevlaz had ever been from their lives in Nagrand. A shadow of story and regret in his mother's strong vigilance of a son brought into a dying world on abandoned promises.

"What am I doing?"

The goblin went through the wall like a stone through a window, the bits of mortar and brick debris scattered about the street. Not a move was made by the limp figure as huge hands grabbed the edges of the recently made 'door' and yanked to widen it with an audible crunch. Lumbering through the black furred tauren would loom above him as it's heavy hooves crushed plaster into dust, the hard blue eyes of Cahall locking onto the little green man.

I hate this job so much. My sires would be ashamed.

It was a familiar thought and pang that grabbed him by the stomach. But it was just as easy to push down as he stomped over to him and picked him up easily. His breath hot and words cold as he spoke very slowly for the scrawny creature to regain consciousness.

"Wake up."

Mary never slept. Mary never ate. Mary never breathed.

I only rot.

Wincott's eyes would close, despair strangling her as her hands would wrap over her pale, cold face. She could fill the empty gaps that were rapidly growing by the day as the skin pulled tighter over bone. She didn't feel any of it. She didn't care what was to come next.

It would never end for the former Nightspeaker.

This was hell.

"Get to the high ground!"

"We must get above it!"

"Run!"

"Cahall help me!"

"The Earthmother will save us."

And the water came.

Steel flashed and slammed into the stone of the alcove Cahall had found himself napping in. His breath came in great gout, in and out in panic as he looked about the quiet street of Orgrimmar. The rain was falling and the people were rejoicing in the gift from above as the desert city had to enjoy the rains when they came. It was only bad memories with the rainfall for him.

The warrior's crude heavy, brand stuck fast in the stone. His one pale blue eye watched the chipped steel catch the falling water with soft splashes and plunks of the heavy droplets. There was a still a nervous quake in his breath as he watched, his hand slowly wrapping around the hilt of the blade and yanking without so much as a grunt.

"Where do I go now?" A husky voice he didn't recognize as his own repeated from the ether, his free hand coming to gently tug at the bronze ring in his nose. The soft familiar flash of pain breaking him of his panic as he began to slow his breathing and heartbeat.

Earthmother will save us. The last words of his mentor before the wave had wiped them all out. He had yet to see the Earthmother give anything to him since. Lost. All of them lost.