#ithranicus remar

Tears stain the parchment in places, blurring and marring the otherwise perfect handwriting.  The letter itself is rolled unevenly, as if done by shaking hands.  

Archon,

News has reached us in Orgrimmar about what has happened.  I write this to you knowing full well that my brother is in his current predicament by his own fault.  I know you are angry about what he and the others did.  I would ask you to set that aside so that I may ask you a question close to my heart.  

My family from my life before is small now; I can count on one hand the few I have left.  Ithranicus is reckless and impulsive but he is also my brother and the only family I have left that is not my own progeny from before.  We were starting to get along and to understand each other, myself with his strange humour, he with my strange nature.  Our meetings are no longer ones of uncomfortable wariness, instead holding a warmth I have only felt with my daughter.  We have plans for the future, plans to rebuild our home.

I have heard of the letters dispersed by the Alliance, promising his execution if hostilities are not ceased.  

Please save my brother, Archon.  

The old man next to him grumbled, The Beast tucked securely into his shoulder.  They’d chosen a grassy overlook, a hill that flattened out and gave them excellent sight through the copse of trees below.  Two hours of crawling on their bellies had gotten them to this place; Ith was sure he had picked up at least a few ticks from the long grass they lay in.  Coming up just high enough to give them some concealment, he shifted to prop his elbows beneath him to peer through a monocular.  

The channeler they’d tracked had set up camp in a swath of maples and oaks, covering the smoke from her campfire but leaving her exposed to the hills surrounding it.  

“Drop is...fifty feet? The hill’s pretty steep from here down to the floor.  Some vegetation in the way too, I don’t know if you’ll hit it or not.”

The rumble that sounded to his left reminded him of his father at times.  “It’ll be fine.  This rifle you found- Did that draenei tell you how it was made?”  He shifted for comfort, grip on the rifle firm but light.  

“We were a little busy trying not to die.  The Legion on other Draenor weren’t exactly letting us have a chat.  I’m also pretty sure I didn’t understand him, my Common’s a little rusty.  He barely taught me how to fire this thing before we were knee-deep in imps.  Wind’s shifted to the north.”

“I see it, adjusting.  You get his name?”  rumbled Anokirin, fingers light as they adjusted the scope.  

Ithranicus kept his eye on the tent in the distance, watching for a flap to open or for a body to deform it’s surface.  A whiff of smoke, perhaps a wild animal to draw her out as a convenient distraction.  “No.  He didn’t give it to me.  And I couldn’t identify him any other way.”

“Shame.  Wind?”

“Still North, six knots now.  Feels like it’s gonna pick up soon, you’d better hurry.”

“I know, need to wait-”

A flap was thrown open as the channeler stepped out.  It was difficult to pick out details even with the monocular; sex was simple, hair color too, but the details of the robe and the device they hunkered over were impossible to pick out.  The red and black tentacles protruding from their back were not one of those hard details.  

“Still north, still roughly six knots.  Nothing else in the area.  You’re good, Anokirin; Send it.”  

It still surprised Ith when The Beast fired.  Not the noise itself, he’d practiced with enough rifles and been around enough explosions they didn’t scare him anymore.  No, what surprised him was how little his target reacted.  He was always so far away they didn’t hear the report until the bullet had already hit them.  She was no different; A second and a half passed by as the bullet whipped through the air before impact.  It was like watching a doll get hit with a rock; she snapped forward, rolling into an awkward ball until her head hit the ground and brought her momentum to a lurching halt.  

They laid there, watching her for a moment.  Ithranicus drew in a breath, while Anorikin kept eerily still.

“Good shot, Anokirin.”

“Yeah yeah you can kiss ass later, finch.  Go get her head, make sure she’s actually one of those nightmare pricks you were talking about.  I’ll stay here and make sure you don’t get caught with your pants down.”  He shifted again for comfort, fingers uncurling around the Beast before he took his grip.  “And take the long way.  I don’t want any of her friends finding out we were here, now or after we’ve gone.”

Lord Firestorm,

Before I start this, I’ll have you know it feels weird using that name rather than “Captain.”  Anyways.

I have people in the south, holdouts from a time before my home burned.  They should be preparing for the Alliance in their own way, readying supplies for the coming winter and drumming up support for a resistance.  They are small in number, but the people of my homeland are a hardy, stubborn folk who don’t take kindly to intruders or usurpers.  When we go south, you can count them and myself among those who will be fighting to keep it free from the invaders.  I will not suffer their presence in my home, and yours as well if you wish.  

Two days ago

“The Alliance are mere miles to the north! They’re marching on Shallowbrook as we speak with three times the numbers and reinforcements to spare!”  

“And that isn’t our problem! We’re barely eeking out a living down here.  Winter preparations just finished, and you want to train an army and give them over half our food? Our people will starve before the new year comes around!”

“Need I remind you, Elder Varko, that Passidonia is the last real power down here? The Windrunner holdings have completely fallen, and the Sunder collective to the north doesn’t look much more secure.  If we do nothing, if we do not unite against these traitors, there will be no standing up to them.  We could very well be next!”

“There is no point for them to come here! What do we have that they would want? A few small farms, some river towns upstream from every region that actually has something interesting? They certainly wouldn’t want to go any further north.”

“Wouldn’t they? The old mines are still rich, and they run deep.  Who says they wouldn’t brave that damned forest in pursuit of iron, coal and gold? This all has to be made profitable somehow, doesn’t it?”

“If they’re that damned foolhardy, let them.  The flames and the dead can take them if they’re that stupid.”

“Are you seriously saying that we should just hand over our sovereignty to race traitors and subversives who abandoned us in our time of need and tried to poison the very well that sustains us? Is that what I am hearing from you, Elder Varko?”

“I have a duty to my people, Elder Zernas.  A duty to protect them, to ensure their survival.  A duty that you have as well, unless you have chosen to abandon it along with your senses.”

“How dare you-”

Anokirin pinched the bridge of his nose as the third fight today broke out among the assembled headmen and headwomen, his sigh long and irritated.  

‘Fucking politicians.’

From his place in the corner he had a front row seat to their “debates”, which often times devolved into open brawls like the one he was witnessing now.  One might have been the usual for meetings like this; six over the course of three days was not.

A door opened to his left; A boy no older than twenty walked along the edge of the room, keeping close to the wall to avoid any errant fists, to hand Anokirin a rolled up parchment.  Bearing the same tone of red wax the welp had been using, the old ranger nodded dismissively to the boy before tearing the seal open to read the letter.

“Anokirin,

I’m leaving soon, just need to find the right time.  I’m liable to lose my position here and a lot of the things I’ve worked for, so my insubordination needs to count for something.  If you aren’t mobilized by the time I get down there, I might have a few friends who can exert some pressure and speed the process along.  

See you soon, Welp”

The parchment was rolled back up, held against Anokirin’s lips as he pondered it’s contents.  

‘I’ll believe it when I see it.’

Velianor, 

This is the last time I’m using this method of letter sending, do you know how hard it is to wrangle this many finches?

I’d like to meet before we get mired down in this war.  Tomorrow, sundown.  We need to talk, and Hemorrhagic needs to be spoiled.

How the courier had found him this deep in Eversong, he would never know.  “Probably some spell they use to find people,” he spoke aloud to the forest.  His menagerie waited back at his camp, so the hunter found himself alone with his thoughts as he read through the letter.  

Ithranicus-

Some weeks ago I recall that you asked to visit while I was yet wounded.  I have not forgotten the request, though simply believed myself very likely to be poor entertainment, given that I slept through those days.

If you would of course, still desire my time, please write back, when you have the time.  Take care on the battlefield.  Though I an often silent and dutiful these days, I always think of you.

-Cere'thien

“That...really was weeks ago,” He paced over to a fallen tree, finding a not-rotted place to sit.  “I should respond to her before she thinks I’m dead or gone AWOL.  Esme’s going to tear my head off enough as it is for disappearing as long as I have.  Oi,” He rose from the tree, chasing the other into the woods, “Courier!”

Cere’thien,

I would very much like to see you again.  It (the following words are smudged out, as if they’ve intentionally been written over to blot them out) has been too long since I have seen you.  Truth be told, I have been somewhat ashamed to come see you.  I was preparing to...take back what is rightfully mine, but I was a coward about it.  There is something holding me back from doing it.  I haven’t told you the whole truth, Aunt Cere.  I went with my sister to see if the two of us could...solve the problem, together, somehow, and we couldn’t.  It still remains.  She still remains.  

I need help, Aunt Cere.

Ithranicus Remar

P.S. Wow, that was really rambly and terribly selfish of me to write.  I am glad you are well again, though I figured you would be.  Please do not take this the wrong way, but you are far, far too stubborn and tough to be brought down by something as insignificant as a demon.  He probably got what was coming to him (or her!), and is scared to come back from the Twisting Nether because he (or she!) knows you’ll be there waiting for him.  

I look forward to seeing you when I return, even with all the shit stuff above.

Ith paced back and forth by the fire, off in his own head.  He did that, when he was thinking.  Alternately, Siildore wrote her thoughts when she was troubled.  And tonight, they were on her daughter.

Caeliri,

I have never had difficulty in writing my thoughts on paper; I have been doing it since I can remember as a way to bring them into focus.  In one’s head they are free to be abstract and nebulous, but on paper they have to be given form.  Words have defined uses and meanings, ink dries and remains, paper is durable and permanent.  In writing those thoughts they become concrete and manifest.  They do not have to be shared; The number of journals I have stowed and tucked away is enough to fill a small library.  A blessing and curse of never sleeping is that you never stop thinking, and you have all the time in the world to think when you never age or need to sleep.  Being eternal means that I have a lot of time to think and to put those thoughts on paper.  Tonight, those thoughts turn to you.

It has been over a year since you died.  A year since I cried in the infirmary over your body.  A year since you were brought back from your repose.  And a year later, I do not know where I fit in your life.  I am not sure I know who you are at times.  That event changed you, it changed me.  You, understandably, are not the same person.  And neither am I.  There is a distance that exists between us now, a distance between you and everyone, and it is something that I have been thinking about constantly.  Between that and the sad looks that I see when you think noone is watching, and you never completely leave my mind.  

Admittedly, I have no idea what I should do at this point.  I know I want to reconnect with you.  I know I want to make things right from some of the things that I did...before.  I know that I want to help you in whatever way I can.  And I have no place to start.  It is difficult to know where to go from here, as I have no frame of reference, no past events, no history with which to work from.  I believe the sailing term is “Uncharted waters.”  But I do know at least one thing, and that is I love you and I am willing to do whatever it takes.  

The Ebon looked up at her brother, still pacing.  Hemorrhagic had even raised his head to look at him, perking his ears and canting his head.  

“Ithy, sit down.  Worrying about tomorrow, after we have already made the plan, is not constructive.  If she is still there after sixteen years, then we will deal with it.  If she is not, then we can move forward from there.  Relax, sleep since you need it, and you can worry tomorrow.”  Siildore turned back down to her letter, putting quill and ink to paper.

I am sorry that I cannot be more normal, or that you could not have a normal life devoid of all these troubles.  I feel often that I have failed you as a mother, and I...am just so, so sorry.

Emberward Siildore Frostlotus

Siildore’s runeblade cut through dead flesh and thunked hard against bone before it was wrenched from the body it had hacked into.  Behind her an arrow whistled through the air before burying itself in another ghoul.  She hadn’t waited for her brother, and knowing him she wouldn’t find him until after this was over.  Another pair of slashes, and the last ghoul had fallen.  

“You could have waited and talked about this with me instead of charging in like that!” the hunter dropped down from a branch, nocking another arrow as he crossed the distance to his sister.  

“You would have objected to my plan.  You still provided support as I needed it, and neither of us are injured.  A win is a win, Ithy.”

The hunter rolled his eyes with an exasperated sigh, shoulders slumping as he gave up.  There was no arguing with her at times, she became so sure that she was right.  “Fine.  What next then? We’ll need help to clear out Ridgeshade.  And there’s so many undead here the two of us will never be able to kill them all,” He regretted the words as soon as they came out of his mouth, knowing his sister would comment.  When it didn’t come, he couldn’t help but look at his sister with surprise.  She never missed an opportunity to remind him that she didn’t need to eat, sleep or breathe, so proud of her ability she was.  

“Siil, everything alright?”

“Yes.  I was just thinking that only a few things could make this day better.”  She knelt, taking a cloth to the blades to clean them of rotted flesh and congealed blood.  

“Wait, what? How did you jump to that from explaining what passes for logic with you?”

The Ebon rubbed a speck of flesh away, running the cloth along the blood groove to get the blade closer to spotless.  “It just came to me.  I am here, in what was my home, with my brother, fighting the Scourge that took me from him.  I am in my element, with my family.  The only thing that could make today better would be if Caeliri were here and I could look forward to seeing Ceria or Eldriana tonight.”

Ith blinked once.  ‘Did she-’ He blinked a second time.  

“Siil, don’t talk to me about your sex life!” The hunter held up a hand, stepping away from his sister as he tried to scrub whatever that image was from his mind.  “I don’t want to know!”

On her part, his reaction brought a smile to her lips.  He was so immature at times.  “That is not why I enjoy their company.  Eldriana understands me better than most, and Ceria,” she trailed off, blushing as her thoughts turned to the monk.  “Ceria makes me smile.  I enjoy their company without physical attraction.  The fact that both are attractive is a...perk.”

For the second time in their short conversation, Ith found himself exhaling a heavy sigh.  “Siil, you’re so weird.”