#dwc2022

With a few twists of his wrist, Rhys finished installing the projector on the ceiling of his new room, and now it was the moment of truth! Flipping off the lightswitch, he picked up the little remote and clicked it on: The room was suddenly bathed in shades of blues and purples, with little white specks of light scattered all over. The illusion was very convincing, it looked like he was staring into space itself when glancing around his ceiling and walls. This was perfect for those cold winter nights when he didn’t want to be outside; he could bring the outside in.

The room had been a serious upgrade from the previous one. It still occupied the same space above the barn of the farm he worked on, but the owners of the farm decided he was overdue for something a little more suitable for a young bachelor. He was able to do most of the decorating himself, opting for brighter colors, art of sunflowers, and photographs of the farm animals he helped raise littering the walls. It was perfect, and it was his.

The Padleys had even allowed him to plant a small field of sunflowers in an unused area of their land, knowing of his love to lay in the neighboring farm’s field on his days off. His sunflowers had managed to grow larger than those of any of their neighbors; turns out that Rhys was a natural green thumb. After that, the farmer often asked for Rhys’s input when he was planting for the year, and the farm thrived with their combined knowledge.

Life was good.

“Wees...” Apparently the name ‘Rhys’ was not easy for a toddler to say. The little girl made ‘uppy arms’ at him, and he swooped her up and set her atop his shoulders. 

“Do you like it, Lia?” She gave a quick nod, stretching her little hands out towards the stars. “You’re welcome to come up and look at the stars with me anytime, but only if your mom says it’s okay. Speaking of, we should get you back down to your parents, it’s almost dinnertime.”

Aurelia was a surprise for the Padleys. They were both older in age, and Mrs. Padley had assumed that ship had sailed years ago. Their other children were grown adults and living their own lives now. Yet here they were, blessed with a bright and bubbly little blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl. Rhys had taken to the role of ‘part-time babysitter’ quite well, he had a special bond with the little girl from the start.

Of course, they all knew the truth.  Mr. Padley had been sterile for years.

Warnings: Small mentions of alcoholism, drug use, and a lil’ bit of body horror

Companion piece to Garren’s Day 1 found ---> HERE

If someone had asked Xylaes five years ago where he thought he would be right now, the answer would not have been still living and working in a brothel. He had big plans to reunite his family, buy a house together, and live happily ever after. Yet the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry, as they say. Honestly it was the story of Xy’s life up until this point, and he shouldn’t have expected anything else.

It had been done before, he had heard about it and seen it with his own two eyes: Taking a soul out of the Shadowlands and implanting them back onto Azeroth. It wasn’t an easy process, nor was it cheap, but Callia would have been worth it. He could have his wife back, they could have their son and be a real family. Unfortunately, the missing piece of the puzzle was the most important: Her willingness. Xylaes knew a part of her yearned for that lost life, but she was never one to fuck with fate. Her time on Azeroth was over, and she would not go back.

After the Shadowlands closed up, losing his wife for a second time broke him in a different way than it had before. Back then he had something very tangible on which to take out his rage: They had stolen her life, so he would steal theirs, and he did just that. But now that it was her own decision to remain behind? He had nowhere to put that anger except towards himself.

He found comfort in the bottle as he had before, and alcoholism was one of the first bad habits to return. He couldn’t remember much from those first two months after the Shadowlands portals were closed. It was always easier for him to drink away the pain rather than wallow in it. Because of this, he began losing regular clients and quickly found himself walking on very thin ice with his employers. Thankfully they were friends and understanding of his situation, but there were moments when he probably should have been fired and thrown out onto the streets.

He had blown all of his savings on drugs and gambling within half a year; money he had been saving up to buy himself, and his son Garren, a new home. All that hard work so quickly and so easily gone. For a while, he had found it difficult to even look at Garren. So much of him resembled Callia, and Xylaes found it too painful of a reminder of what he had just lost…again. Their relationship suffered; Xylaes often canceled plans or just completely neglected to show up at all. It wasn’t what he wanted, this wasn’t how things were supposed to go at all, but the depression had taken hold and he found it difficult to do just about anything.

It wasn’t until he woke up behind bars, bruised and bloodied, bleeding from a hole in his thigh, and missing three fingernails on his right hand with zero collection of how any of this came to be that he decided he needed to get his shit together. Again. There was a threat of more prison time and a steep bail set, but for some inexplicable reason, Xylaes had people in high places still on his side that cared about him. He was embarrassed and ashamed, Callia would have detested this version of Xylaes. He owed it to her, and to Garren, and mostly to himself, to pull himself together and become the father that Garren deserved, and the friend that those who stuck by his side deserved.

The following years were spent in and out of rehab, going to plenty of therapy, and making amends with all of those whom he had wronged. While not once did he regret reuniting Callia in Maldraxxus, he could admit that maybe he shouldn’t have gotten so attached again. He often wondered how she handled their separation, if she was just as angry or sad, and how she coped. On occasion he would sit in the portal room in Orgrimmar, staring at the empty space where the portal to Oribos once was, willing it to open again. It was a dream he needed to let go of and start focusing on his future, but for a man like Xylaes it was always difficult to let go of the past.

These days life was more stable. He still lived and worked in the brothel but his debts were all paid and he was now over a year sober. The temptation still remained, but had to admit that he felt healthier now than he had in a while.

Light had just begun to peek through the cracked curtains to his room when he heard a soft rapping at his door. With a squint, he glanced over to the nude feminine figure still sleeping next to him, and then towards the door. No one was supposed to bother him while he was ‘working’, so whatever this was must be important. With a grunt, he rolled off the bed and pulled on his robe before cracking the door open just enough to slip out and shut it behind him, talking in a whispered tone, “What do you want?”

The guard looked up at him and then towards the steps, “Umm…your son is here? Says he messaged you like…an hour ago.”

Xylaes wiped some of the groggy out of his eyes, staring blankly as the words processed through his mind. He hadn’t checked his comm since yesterday evening. “Wait, he’s here? You let him in here? Fuck sake.” He was already halfway down the hall when he waved at his room, “Can you tell her an emergency came up?”

He had taken care not to fully disclose his profession to his son, leaving the details vague and maybe a bit misleading. He had told him the name of the place in case of an emergency, that thought immediately made him hurry faster down the steps and into the lobby. “Garren, what’s wrong?” It took him a split second to notice the suitcase and a wide-eyed Garren looking around the place while slowly making connections in his head.

“Ohh, no. Nothing’s wrong. I ummm…I need a place to stay. Can I stay …here with you?” The words trailed off near the end of that question, still a touch uncertain as to what ‘here’ was.

“No.” The response was a little more aggressive than anticipated, and Xylaes quickly tried to soften his tone into something more reassuring. “I mean, you would need to work here to…” He waves a hand, that was NOT going to happen. “How about you meet me over in the Legerdemain Lounge, grab yourself a coffee, and we’ll figure something out, okay? Okay.” He shoved some change that was in his bathrobe pocket into Garren’s hand and practically shoved him out the door towards the Lounge. “I’ll be right there!”

“Shit..” he grumbled under his breath, although there was also some giddy anticipation there beneath the shock. His son came to him for help, that was a first! He rushed back into his room and tossed on some clothing, grabbed his comm device, and made for the door. There were two people he knew he could ask a favor of; as much as he detested asking for help, he knew he didn’t have much of a choice at this moment. His kid needed a place to stay and he did not currently have the money to make that happen, but he knew someone with extra rooms, and right here in Dalaran to boot.

He sent off a quick message to Fio as he made his way to the lounge, “Garren showed up at the Moon needing a place to live, do you have an extra room he could use until I figure something else out?”

Last June

His birthday had come and gone with little fanfare, but it had been that way for years now, hadn’t it? However, this was a milestone birthday, he was officially an adult, even though he yearned for the days when his grandparents would spoil him with sweets and gifts before gathering at the beach with his friends to have a big party. Ever since Teldrassil was burnt down, nothing had been the same. He lost his home, his remaining family, and many of his friends, all within a span of a couple hours. How terrible, yet strange it was to have everything you’ve ever known snatched away from you in the blink of an eye.

He sat in the small room he had spent the last few years in, staring at the lone, packed suitcase on the ground. The suitcase itself had been a gift from his guardians; that came with the mostly unspoken caveat that he needed to vacate their house. They were expecting a baby and needed the space, and now that Garren was of age he was no longer their burden to bear. The promise made to his grandparents had been kept, and they were now free of him. Not that he could blame them for wanting him gone, he wasn’t the most well-behaved under their guardianship and there wasn’t much else to do around the refugee camps in Moonglade other than finding trouble. He had become quite good at that.

In truth, he was happy to go. The word neglect might have been a little too harsh, but there were days when he had gone hungry and he had never felt an ounce of love or care from these ‘family friends’. He had spent most of his days off in the woods with his mother’s bow and quiver, and arrows that he made himself. It had always felt like he was just biding his time until this moment, and now he was ready for his next chapter.

There was only one place he could think to go, and the only family he had left. His father, Xylaes, had recently entered his life - after Garren had spent the majority of his formative years assuming the man to be dead. Theirs was a rocky relationship, but Garren could appreciate that Xylaes would answer all of his questions bluntly and honestly, even if they made him out to be the villain. In this case, he was in a way, but the older man had his reasons, paid a very steep price, and was desperate to get back into his son’s good graces. Not to mention his mother Callia had literally sent word from beyond to the grave to tell him to give Xy a chance, that he was a good man despite it all. But that was a story for another time.

Even if Garren had yet to feel that familial love towards his father, he felt, no, he knew that the older man loved him and would do anything and everything for him. Something he had not felt since his grandparents were alive. Although there was still a lot of anger, resentment, and distrust there, Garren desperately wanted to feel like he belonged somewhere again and this was the best place to start.

With a sigh, he picked up his suitcase and left; having already said his goodbyes, he headed straight towards the portal to Dalaran. Perhaps he should have told Xylaes of his plans, or lack thereof, but there was a slight feeling of exhilaration in heading off towards the unknown.

A slight follow-up to these stories: Part 1 - Red Part 2 - Taric

Red squinted down at the latest comm message that had chimed the night prior on his phone. While he was never one to give away too many emotions in his expression, the ‘what the fuck’ look was obvious. Zalan-fucking-drissa. A name he used to be quite familiar with, although it had now been..what? Five years? Who was even keeping track anymore. She wanted to figure out somewhere to meet and catch up. Right, because Red was known for his desire for small talk and hanging out with people that had a tendency to disappear for months, or years, at a time. They would more than likely run into each other at some point, but she could sweat it out for a while longer.

He rolled his eyes and tossed the device aside before crawling out of his bed, in his apartment. Planting roots wasn’t in Red’s nature, but he had to admit that having all of his belongings in one location was a welcome change - not that he owned much in the first place. Nobody knew where he lived aside from those closest to him, and he planned on keeping it just that way for the foreseeable future. The less visitors, the better.

Not that it would matter come next week; they would be shipping off to the Dragon Isles for who knows how long. New land meant new opportunities, especially for those in the ‘salvaging’ business. The whole mood surrounding this adventure was much different than what he had experienced when it came to the Shadowlands. There came an uncertainty with stepping foot into the Afterlives, especially knowing that a certain someone was likely there and waiting for him. 

And just as he predicted, she most certainly had been.

He eyed the small, sealed box covered in filigree sitting above his mantle with a little smirk. Bianca had always thought she was so much smarter than him, yet her egotism often clouded her judgement. Which was saying a lot given just how egotistical Red himself could be at times. He had found her just as he thought he would, although it was more likely that she had found him. The Maw was a fitting afterlife for her, but she had entered on her own accord, specifically seeking him. Even in death, their bond was undeniable, he could feel her constant pull and sway and assumed it to be similar for her.

She was there, right in Gorgoa with him and Taric. She wormed his way into his already susceptible mind and gave him false visions, using his own hate against him and he had nearly killed his nephew because of it. The two has brushed it off later, knowing fully well that the River of Souls could seriously mentally fuck you; but Red knew better. He felt her presence there. So later, when everyone else was asleep or otherwise occupied, he returned by himself, prepared for this very scenario.

Bianca was now back where she belonged, trapped and displayed on his mantle like a prize. No one asked about the ornate box, assuming it to be decoration, that, knowing Red, more than likely housed a variety of drugs. That was the truth, in a way. Knowing exactly where Bianca was at all times and especially knowing she could do nothing to him gave him a high that no amount of dust or thistle ever could. Maybe it was weird to keep such a malicious spirit in his personal space, but it was much, much better than any of the alternatives.

He raised his mug of coffee towards her personal prison in cheers, “Try not to miss me too much when I’m gone.”

He had forgotten just how quiet the house could be without his sister Kara around. She had moved out about a year ago now despite his assurances that she was more than welcome to stay as long as she needed. She wanted to give him his space, but mostly she was finally ready for her own space as well. It was comforting knowing that she could make it on her own, and that he didn’t have to worry as much about her. He still would, of course, that was his job. They still visited each other on a regular basis, and would have the occasional sleepover that usually involved barbeque and animal onesies. But he had to admit, he missed having that constant presence in his house. 

Perhaps it wasn’t her specifically, but just having someone around to break the insufferable silence. He dropped the book he had been reading with an annoyed sigh onto his lap and glanced up to the clock on his wall. 8pm. It was still early, yet all he wanted to do was to go to bed and hope that tomorrow morning would rid him of this hollow feeling inside his chest and these creeping thoughts of his own mortality.

Things were, by all accounts, going well in his life. Amberlight Smithing was thriving and had no shortage in work, the Tarts continued to perform in front of crowds all over Azeroth, and the ‘other job’ afforded him small luxuries whenever he desired. Yet here he was, unable to escape his own melancholic feelings and intrusive thoughts.

Even though the two still had a lot of love for each other, Dyra and he had split a while ago. It was neither of their faults, they just never managed to be on the same page. She was still more of a free spirit, and he was ready to settle down and start a family. It had been a long time since he had seen her, and he wasn’t expecting her to show up and work the After Dark show. He had felt that familiar pang of grief when he saw her, and again when she whispered those sweet, loving words into his ear that caught him off guard. 

They eventually departed with the promise to see each other again soon; he by himself, and she - in true Dyra fashion - with a group of others, so he found out later through Ryland. That stung more than he thought it would.

He picked up his comm and flipped through his contacts, pausing on Dyra briefly and considering before continuing to scroll. Everyone he typically would have messaged tonight he already knew to be busy, and even then he wasn’t sure he wanted to bother anyone while he felt this way. He tossed the device across the room onto a chair so he wouldn’t be tempted, nothing good ever came from sad texting. He scooped up the rainbow shawl sitting on his nightstand and pressed it to the lower half of his face, breathing in the scent. Of course it no longer smelled of his late wife, but it was still a comforting gesture. After clicking off his light, he rolled over and attempted to find some sleep. Tomorrow will be better.

The years of peace were…bizarre. Unnatural. Given their recent track record, they were lucky to go a month without some sort of war breaking out. At first, Pollux expected to return to the field at any moment; always prepared for that scenario with bags packed, armor at the ready, and weapons cleaned and sharpened. A month passed, and then another month, and after a year without any deployment, Pollux found himself finally settled back into the civilian lifestyle. As much as a man like him could be, at least.

At times he was content to be home, able to spend more time with Khaeris and focus on creating updated prosthetics. Other times, he found himself staring blankly out the window, feeling like something was missing and unsure of what to fill that void with. He had found a partial answer in asking Khaeris to move in with him. They were well overdue for the ‘next step’ of their relationship, and she had been staying over most nights regardless. It made sense. Most people that had been dating this long would have likely already been married by this point. It was a thought that occurred to him, but the two seemed content with what they had. That would be a conversation for later.

A nearby store had recently gone out of business, and Pollux was quick to purchase the empty shop and move his workshop there instead. The two deserved an actual bedroom, and it was a chance for Khaeris to put her own personal touch on their now shared home. His apartment was fairly drab and he had grown fond of how colorful she preferred her spaces to be, so it was a welcome change. Khaeris wasn’t the only roommate that he had gained; Sunny, her sunfur panda, also made the move. He had to admit it was nice having a little fuzzy critter around the house, but come nighttime he was definitely not allowed in their bedroom per Pollux’s request - much to Sunny’s dismay. 

Life was good, and honestly it was the time that they needed together.

Of course, peace never lasted forever. They both expected this day to eventually come, but after three years of being able to be home and be together, it was going to be extra difficult to leave this time. His orders came in, and while much of the military was shipped off to the various elemental storms, he was being sent directly to the Dragon Isles. They shared a lengthy goodbye, and knowing that comms would work made things much easier than it had been with the Shadowlands. As hard as it was to leave her, Pollux was eager and ready to get back on the field.

@daily-writing-challenge

The thing about dreams coming true... is that they often take far longer to actually begin than one would like. It was for the best, however, that the Expedition was taking so long to get ready... and the storms were taking time to clear - the noblewoman could thus ensure that she wasn't neglecting her daughter, by taking on this newest venture.

When Caitiri had been younger, it had been less of a concern - a child so young that they hardly notice the length of time that you're gone is something else entirely from a child ten years of age, who begins to ask to go with you; who begins to ask questions about where you go, what you do, why she has to stay home - and the irony of it all was that Lily understood what that was like, and hated being the bad guy - the one who said no to fun. She didn't impress upon her young daughter the importance of noble frivolities, however, as her aunt had done to her... but it was important that the girl get an education... and stay safe.

Lilliana had never really... intended to have children. The circumstances of Caitiri's birth were unusual, and her biological father long since fled - leaving the young woman to fumble with trying to learn to be something she'd never really wanted to be - a mother.

She'd managed, until now, but the years had gone by faster than she'd expected, and the girl's tenth birthday had come and gone over the summer... double digits, at last. She didn't resent the girl - that much was impossible. But it did limit how she'd wanted to live her life - dangerously, and on the go.

Typically, leaving Caitiri meant leaving her with Eryth - he'd begun acting as Lilliana's seneschal in recent years, and had taken it upon himself to love his friend's child as if the girl were his own; but this time, they were both leaving. Without him... there were others who could run her estate, but only one person left to whom she could entrust her child, and it was the woman who had made her own childhood hellish.

She'd spoken to her aunt at length, over the years since, however. The woman was still stiff, but had long since admitted to her own faults in how she'd handled having a child thrust upon her when she hadn't been ready - her brother's daughter suddenly there... impetuous and rebellious. They had been the only family left to one another, so they'd had to struggle though their own grief and growing pains at the same time - neither really ready for what life had thrown at them with the fall of Quel'thalas.

Ryland had never considered himself a sentimental man, there was no room for that in his current lifestyle. Lovers had come and gone over the years without a second thought; fleeting distractions that could rarely hold his interest. He would almost always grow bored or find some new distraction to capture his attention within weeks or months.

There was a part of him that felt bad, especially towards the ones that had proclaimed deep feelings. But in the end, it felt good to be loved and to be spoiled. He could admit it was selfish in a way, but he had never led any of them to believe there would be more than he was willing to give. He would simply stop coming around as much and fade away from their lives. It saved them from the heartache, and it saved him from conversations he would prefer never to have in those types of ‘situationships’. A win for all, right?

He was still young and carefree, witty and charming with the world at his fingertips. He often got his way - many found it difficult to say no to that alluring smirk.

Maybe it was for the best that things didn’t go as planned with Sela.

He immediately paled at that horrible, intrusive thought. It wasn’t the first time, nor would it be the last. He would give anything to have her still alive, she didn’t deserve the end she was given. He didn’t deserve the loss he had gone through either. 

But we were so young, could that have actually worked out? 

He growled in anger at himself and looked over at the nearby clock - just after midnight. Clubs and bars would still be open. He rolled out of bed, threw on some clothes, and tousled his hair before heading out the door. Time to find another distraction before the bad thoughts completely took over.