First step to a new journey.
“Let’s just say... a friend came by and returned them for you.”, Thandiroq heard Aisleen’s words but he couldn’t find the words to respond. The twin blades that lied upon the counter, that he left behind after the battle in Feralas, had once again found their way back to him. His mind flashed back to that day, as he sat there against the tree that the bandits were trying to cut down illegally for profit, bleeding profusely as he tried to remain conscious. He hid his wounds well from the others, he did not want them to worry and as he sat there his eyes found their way to the canopy above. To a familiar face looking down, looking at him, Thandiroq ran his hand along the blade as he thought back to Aisleen’s words again and something she had said earlier, “Then it sounds as if you have a dragon watching over you.” A chuckle formed as he thought back to the vision he had, of the Kaldorei who was more than Kaldorei, the dragon that looked strikingly similar to Aisleen. Thandiroq hinted to the druid about his query regarding Aisleen and the strange being, but he did not press her to indulge anything. Of course Aisleen being who she was, spoke cryptically and said really nothing that would confirm or deny his assumption. Thandiroq had told Aisleen that he understood why she was angered by his actions regarding the dragon the guild had faced and truly he was sorry for how that had ended, so much in fact that he could not bear the shame of carrying the blades that were tainted with the blood of a seemingly innocent dragon. That was why he left the weapons behind in Feralas, that is why now that they had returned to his possession that he would need to do more than just discard them.
Thandiroq met with Danyael, his uncle, a few days later in the wilds of Dragonblight as they had agreed upon. His uncle had a gift for him, a gift that Thandiroq already knew about, thanks to Aisleen’s special blend. He was not surprised when his uncle handed him the axe and shield, his mother's weapons used to defend her people during the demon's first invasion of Azeroth. Thandiroq knew these two items almost intimately as he recalled the dreams he had of them, however he was in complete surprise of what Danyael showed him next. The armor, modified to fit him, that his mother had worn herself. It was magnificent, silver, purple and blue ran through the plating and the shine it gave off in the moon's glow was almost blinding. Thandiroq looked upon the armor with pure amazement in his eyes, only one other vision had made him feel so in awe before. “Shall we adorn you in your new attire Thandiroq?” Danyael asked with a smirk on his face, “Or would you rather wait for the Wild one to help you?” Thandiroq tore his gaze from the armor and weapons to look at this uncle and chuckled, it was as if Danyael knew exactly what, or who rather, gave him the feeling that he was now experiencing. “I do wish to wait, but for another reason.” Thandiroq walked over to a tree and picked up a bundle that laid near it, producing his twin blades, he slowly walked over to Danyael, “I need your help with something, I can not do it alone.” Thandiroq handed the blades to Danyael and frowned as he looked at the swords. “I wish to have them destroyed, but first...” Thandiroq removed the gauntlets from his hands and ran his bare hands along the edge of the swords. “I do not wish for the blood of a dragon to be the last thing these blades to have spilled.” Thandiroq looked his uncle in the eye and smiled. “Sin.” He spoke the word that would bring out the deadly potential of the twin blades as he grabbed hold of both swords by the edges. “Promise me that you will destroy them, Danyael.” Thandiroq’s uncle peered into his eyes, slowly they fell to where his hands gripped the blades. “On your mother’s honor, it will be done. She would be proud of who you have become.” Thandiroq smiled wide as he tightened his grip on the swords, “I am proud, to carry on in her place, in the defense of those I love.” Thandiroq slid his hands down the edges of the weapon, leaving a trail of purple blood upon the glowing blades. He brought his hands up to his eyes, looking at the deep cuts on his hand. His eyes falling to the snow he stood upon as the purple droplets hit the snow. “Now the last blood they spill is of the one that wielded them. Thank you uncle. I am ready now to take the next step of my journey.”
@aisleen silverspring
