#daxion

August DWC 2024 Day 7 - Enigma

“When are you going to retire?” Glowing, golden eyes raised, a mischievous grin tugging at Daxion’s lips. This has been a question Talon’s son had been asking him prior to every campaign that had been fought on Azeroth. Of course, nothing much had started nor was official just yet, but both Daxion and Talonoa knew this feeling well enough. Daxion now a Champion within the Blood Knights and Talonoa a Retired Commander of the Argent Crusade, the two had seen enough war between them to fuel a few lifetimes.

“At this rate? Never.” Talon’s icy gaze flashed with both amusement and truth, Daxion wasn’t as amused. Talonoa had become something of an enigma over the past decade and a half after his encounters with Gaebral. While his heart still beat and his skin still flushed with color, the remainder of him had taken on the properties of a Death Knight, or something similar. There was no need to sleep, to eat or drink, nor to rest in general. He had become limitless and not governed by the laws of the living. It was a boon, for now, but eventually Death would catch up to him.

Few people knew about his ‘situation’, but Daxion was one of them and didn’t always appreciate his jokes. “I suppose when I finally retire myself I can just come to you, hmm? Old habits do die hard.”

“You should start that family you’ve been talking about. With Eliesa? That was her name, right? She seemed like a nice woman.” The thought of becoming a grandfather was not a bad one, as the ship had probably sailed on him becoming a father again.

“Yeah, well, she broke up with me. You know the drill. Too busy, too work oriented. It’s true, I am. It’s hard to put someone else first when the world is consistently at war.” Daxion shrugged, he had gone through a handful of relationships over the years since Talon had finally met him.This wasn’t surprising.

“Seems as if we’ll have our hands full very soon anyways. Promise me you’ll keep me updated?” Despite not being aware of each other until only about a decade ago, the two had formed a tight bond, especially being each other’s only remaining family.

“Of course. You as well. Be safe and Light guide.” The Light was certainly no longer a part of Talon’s life, but it was a habit to say.

The two embraced before Daxion departed for Dalaran to meet up with the other Blood Knights to aid in the radiant echoes. It didn’t sit well with Talon, having his only family in a place that was ripe with rumors and bad vibes. There was a reason why he wasn’t having his mercenary crew gather in the floating city to be on call just in case they were needed within the echoes. Talon had learned a long time ago to trust his gut, and it was telling him to stay very, very far away from that city.

@daxionsunvale @gaebral

Brewfest had always been one of Dicenne’s favorite holidays for both obvious and personal reasons. Beer and grilled meats of all varieties spoke to the man on a deep level as anyone that knew him was already aware of, but it was the nostalgia of annually visiting the festival with his father, Arconis, that was his favorite. He missed the man dearly, and while he had made many new memories with Kara, Felon, and others, there was always that pang of grief and yearning for times long past. Even without him, Dice still took it upon himself to honor their long standing traditions, now with friends. 

He had been surprised when Daxion returned the comm message so quickly, having assumed that the man was probably still out in the Shadowlands doing Light knows what with the rest of the Blood Knights. It had been his birthday recently, and it had been a long time since Dicenne checked in on his friend, so this seemed like the perfect opportunity to catch up. Plus, he knew that Dax was just as fond of Brewfest beers and foods as himself.

Despite it having been nearly a year since the duo spent any amount of significant time together, it was easy to fall back into their friendship. It was obvious that the Shadowlands had done a number on the newly-promoted Champion, catching him caught up in the occasional thousand-yard stare or the sudden reach for a weapon that wasn’t there anytime a glass shattered. The life of a full-time soldier was difficult, Dicenne understood completely and he would do his best to keep the other man occupied.

One of the traditions was to sample every single drink and every platter of food that Brewfest had to offer, and given the number of new vendors this would be no easy task. About halfway through the two were already well into tipsy territory, borderline drunk. 

“Do you have anyone in your life like that?”

Daxion wasn’t known for his lengthy relationships given his focus on the military. At this point he wasn’t even sure he had officially been in a relationship, “No, no. No time for that. Although if I were to find something like you and Dyra have, then maybe that could work out, but I don’t exactly get out a lot. Unless we’re talking about war, then I get out there all the time.” He was definitely one of those soldiers married to his job.

“That’s fair. No one you’re even interested in, a fellow Knight?”

The Knight hesitates for a moment, “I did consider asking Lady Liadrin out on a date once. Doesn’t seem appropriate though, does it? Not that she would even consider.”

Dicenne smirked to himself, hiding the expression with a sip of beer before speaking again. Poker face was bad when drinking.  “At least you would be on the same schedule.”

“What was that? That look?” Daxion squinted.

“What look?”

“That cheeky little grin when I mentioned Lia---” Dax tilted his head to one side, eyes going wide. “She hired YOU, didn’t she?!” He probably looked like a kid on Winter Veil morning at that sudden assumption. “You know there was talk going around... Amberlight, you stud!”

Dicenne held up his hand, shaking his head, “Let me stop you right there, this is how rumors get started.”

“There’s already a rumor!”

“Ready for the next round?” Topic change!

“You did not deny it.”

Dice leveled a look on the other man before rolling his eyes and shaking his head with a grin. He wrapped an arm around the other’s shoulders, leading them towards the next vendor.

“I could kiss you right now you beautiful man.”

“Don’t make promises you won’t keep, Dax.”

A new land, A new planet, An old enemy.

The Construct could not help but heed the call before it would be too late, and that would be sooner rather than later if his calculations proved correct.  The hazy premonitions had become clear, Argus would soon be gone from Azeroth’s sky and the opportunity would be missed.  While C cared little for the demonic threat to his world, it was the temptation of the ‘new’ that finally brought him onto the demon invested lands.

The unmistakable scent of death clung heavily to the foreign air here, an odor that would repulse many a man or woman unaccustomed to the ravages of war.  The Construct found it comforting, encouraging even.  While weary, armored soldiers and mercenaries scurried around, the peculiar man with the icy stare moved about completely unencumbered.  

“This is no place to be wearing a suit...” “You shouldn’t leave the camp without proper protection!” “It’s dangerous to go out there alone!”

The shouted suggestions and demands went largely ignored aside from a few vacant stares offered towards those who spoke up, shutting them down just as quickly.  They had more important worries to tend to rather than concerning themselves over a curious man donning an elegant three piece suit with no weaponry who clearly had some sort of death wish.

It was the Antoran Wastes where he found himself shortly thereafter, out of all the damaged lands it was there that called to him.  Power, death, and familiarity all lingered here; a formula that could not be ignored.  He had a purpose, one he was unaware of himself, yet his feet carried him to where he needed to be.  The remaining demons paid him little mind, almost as if they were oblivious to his presence despite the close proximity of his path.  The Construct walked with absolute confidence through the carnage left behind from demon and man alike, occasionally halting to crouch down and press bare fingers to the hardened ground below:  Observing, learning, reading the signs given to forge his way towards his unknown objective.  A world would always tell its story to those who listened.

Nightfall had finally brought him to his final destination.  There was something eerily captivating about Argus at night that would have typically sidetracked the inquisitive man, but he needed to fulfill this task.  Weaving through the mercenary camps, he came upon the simple, nondescript tent among the sea of many.  Not a single camp guard was alerted to his obvious presence, those who glanced his way stared through him rather than at him:  A simple unspoken suggestion, a trick of the mind concocted by the persuasive being behind the frigid stare.

Crouching down next to the makeshift bed within, pallid fingertips stroked gently through the silvery locks of hair that belonged to one of the two resting bodies.  Caught somewhere between the waking world and the dream state, the older man stirred but did not arouse from his meditative rest.  Sleep was an elusive want for this other man, no longer a necessity in his current state, but a desire.

A whispered greeting was offered, it was the first time The Construct had made physical contact with this specific ‘creation’ and ohhh how magnificent and powerful he was!  Just like himself, there were no others like him in the entire world;  one of a kind, completely unique in their shaping and capabilities.  “Hello my brother, it is a pleasure to finally meet you.”

That beguiling smile touched those plush lips as his icy stare fixated on Talonoa’s slowed pulse throbbing beneath the cold flesh of his neck.  There was the faintest hint of jealousy that welled up within but was quickly quelled with the internal reassurance of his palpable superiority.  His admiration and intrigue was promptly interrupted with the overwhelming demand to finish his given task:  A message of utmost importance that needed to be delivered.  Fingers untangled themselves from the silver hair, now pressing instead to the man’s temple to form a mental link between the two.

Eyes clouded over with an inky blackness as The Construct allowed his Master to assume command of both body and mind.  “Your son is going to die six days from now.  You can stop this destiny if you dare test the hand of fate.”  The raspy, baritone voice was not belonging to that of the creation any longer, but to that of the creator instead.  No other words were spoken, instead the premonition of death was played through in staggering detail as if it were happening here and now.  It was not a death of neither The Construct nor Gaebral’s own doing, but simply a bloody and horrendously violent casualty of this war against the Legion.  

By now Talonoa knew these premonitions to be truthful, it wasn’t his first encounter with them nor would it be his last.   He above all others would take this seriously. The question was...why?   Why would Gaebral show this to him?

As soon as the vision was gifted, The Construct returned to his normal state as if nothing had happened.  A brief press of soft lips was delivered to Talon’s temple, accompanied by a soothing murmur of C’s own dulcet voice:  “Goodbye brother, until we meet again.  Happy Winter Veil.”  Before the older man had a chance to stir from his involuntary slumber, C had slipped away into the night to sate his curiosity of the new lands.

Talonoa usually ‘woke up’ before the sun crept over the horizon, this had been a habit of his for years even after a late night. He had never been good at sleeping in, but these days he didn’t even seem to need sleep in general. He went through the motions of laying down, closing his eyes, and drifting into some type of semi-unconscious state, but it wasn’t sleep. More of a habit leftover from a lifetime of having to do so.

It wasn’t the only habit he no longer needed to do; food and drink seemed to be optional now as well. When he fought, he never got winded nor was he sore the following day. He could keep fighting, keep running, keep doing anything he wanted to do without ever growing weary and needing to rest. Whatever Gaebral had done to him all those years ago had left him at peak condition without any sign of deterioration. Eventually, there would be a catch, at least so he assumed. There always was with Gaebral. Maybe his burden was to become immortal: To never age another day while those around him continue the cycle of life. A constant process of having to watch everyone you love die. He pressed two fingers to the side of his neck, feeling the faint pulse still present. What a strange thing, to be alive and, in many ways, not at the same time.

He slipped quietly out of the bedroom and closed the door behind him so as to not wake his sleeping Lioness. With coffee in hand, he sat on the front porch and stared out over the quiet landscape of the Valley of the Four Winds. This had become their escape from the world, and while Talon had felt the inevitable draw of war after too much inactivity, he could tell that Naralinthe was growing weary of that life. 

Maybe it was time for the next chapter of their lives to begin.

It was a conversation they had discussed a handful of times before, but never actually arrived at an answer for a variety of reasons. They were both older, and with everything happening within his body he wasn’t entirely certain he was still viable; at least they had suffered no loss of intimacy. Decades ago Talon had lost his wife and two children, and outside of his current relationship those were the years he cherished most. More recently he had found out that Daxion was his biological son, but Talon had missed out on all of the grown man’s formative years. 

He missed it dearly. He missed being a father and raising a child with a woman he loved. More than anything it’s what he wanted, before whatever was happening within took his mind and his soul. That would be the worst case scenario, but it was always a possibility. For so long he had been avoiding getting tested, fearful of what the outcome may be. This is what he wanted, he needed to know and soon he would. 

He scrolled through his missed messages on his comm device, sitting up straighter as he found the one he had been waiting for. Eyes quickly scanned the doctor’s findings from his reluctant trip yesterday, and a restrained smile spread over his lips. Of course it wasn’t just his decision, and if anything he at least found comfort in the fact that he could still become a father.

remember when yo girl wished so badly for a shared ride mount so that her crusader can ride w his then-boyfriend back in 2012

so nostalgic!!! those days when the only mounts available anywhere were the b&w horsies. i remember wanting shared mounts so so so badly, i think it was the only thing i wish DN would implement.

‘Where are you?’

He had sent that message at least fifteen times by now over the past couple weeks, all with no response.  This was the harsh and painful reality of being in the military and holding such a dangerous position.  He doubted anyone would contact him should the worst come to pass and even then he would never get straight answers.  That’s simply the way it was when it came to classified business.  Luckily with his connections he found out the unpleasant truth, at least as much as could be given.

MIA

What was he supposed to do with that?  At least it wasn’t KIA, this was better right?  He wasn’t entirely convinced of that.  She could be alive out there somewhere, captured even, there was no way of knowing.  The worst part was there was absolutely nothing he could do.  This wasn’t his branch and he had his own duties to perform.  No doubt they had their own people on it by now.  Perhaps Talon could help, the man had his ways.  Right now all he could do was hope and pray that she would make a safe return soon.  ...Someday.  

It was hard to ignore that aching feeling in the pit of his stomach telling him he shouldn’t get his hopes up.  A final comm message was sent off before he tucked it away:

‘Please be okay.’

That was the bad part about being able to cleanse away your drunkenness:  You get to remember every foolish thing you said and did mere moments ago.  But he had meant what he said, didn’t he?  He was tired:  Tired of others trying to fix him, tired of others offering advice he didn’t ask for, tired of being judged for his choices, good or bad.  It wasn’t as if he weren’t trying to get better, he had been going to a therapist for years now and while there had been some progress he still had a ways to go.  

There was no quick fix to any of this and those around him had become so accustomed to assuming the charming smile and the positive attitude weren’t forced.  The nightmares, the flashbacks, the lack of sleep, the lack of concentration; it all just kept piling up war after war.  This one in particular was worse than many of the previous wars and as much as he hated to admit it, he could pinpoint it all back to one specific moment - the timelock.  But how do you fix a month and a half of missed time?  Clearly neither he nor his therapist had figured that out yet.

For now, he had a bit of explaining to do.  The last thing he wanted was for Lynesse to feel like she had done something wrong for his sudden brush off, or for his new acquaintance to think of him as some prickly jackass.  He was still raw from recent events and had every right to be resentful and dejected, but not towards any of them.

With a sigh, he pulled out his comm device, sending off a few messages.  While he had no contact information for Kirabel, he knew the name and the occupation at the very least.  He had the connections, he would find her eventually.

For now, he just wanted to be alone.