#nairus

Mentions: @divergent-lines​ @synric-silversong​

Nairus found himself in a lull between darkness and white light. 

In the light there were voices. 

“The wound…”

In the darkness, there were images of the inn room with the empty bed now laid in disarray. The shadows of light played along the walls and corners giving everything a black and white look. The plants were sitting quietly by the window. The chair he usually sat upon was set facing him. 

Then there were bright flashes, followed by those voices once more. “Where’s the Priest? We can’t…”

The blackness consumed him followed by a sharp pain situated around his stomach. Blood pooled around him, slowly seeping into the wooden boards. A man standing with his back turned, was there several feet away, his eyes were cast over his shoulder glowing an eerily blue. The only color in the entire room.

A sharp bright flash came followed by, “We need to stitch him.”

“Mey,” Nairus called out as she stood in the doorway of the inn room. The world was still a horrible blackness around them. A cold chill lay over him as if the window had been open and winter was outside. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, staring at him, pain in her eyes, before she turned, soundless, out of his sight. 

mentions: @divergent-lines @neiablackwood @savianblackwood

Beggars and Priest

“Hm, the druid that was attacked?” The old man scoffed. “First you come in asking for a friend, now you're asking about the elf that everyone wants to know about?” He waved Madivh off. “Go somewhere else bud, I’m done answering questions. If you aren’t staying, I’m not interested.” 

What a tough old man. Madivh grumbled to himself as he made his way towards the large gates of the city. They seemed whiter and more intimidating than he last remembered, and the forest outside seemed darker and clustered tightly together. He was certain the forest had been more open and inviting years before.

How am I going to find a druid in a forest? I don’t know how nature magic works and what if he’s turned himself into a bird, or a deer? 

He stepped beyond the city outskirts. Already the smell of the ocean’s breeze seemed like a distant memory. In its place heavy soil and soft smells graced him. 

Dammit, if I only had a necklace and a raven, I could maybe use them to scout---

He slowed to an immediate stop. Bird? Why didn’t Nairus just fly off? Why did he walk out of the Cathedral, and then walk out of the city towards the forest? 

The answers to those questions weren’t important, but the revelation of the questions themselves was. Madivh spun on his heels. If Nairus wasn’t using his druid forms to move about, then, he would have to walk back through those gates. If he sat and waited with a good vantage point, Nairus would eventually come back. 

Joy was an understatement of what he was truly feeling. 

There was a chance Nairus wasn’t planning to come back, and if that was the case, then it was pointless even looking in Elwynn. There was no way Madivh would be able to find and track down a druid in its own home. Pointless some would say. He had a better chance finding leads in Stormwind about Mey then tracking down Nairus and asking him if he seen her. 

I give it a week. If he doesn’t walk through those gates in a week, I’ll look somewhere else. 

Thus, Madivh sat himself on the far edge of the outer walls of Stormwind. He watched the road as time passed. His attention focused on people’s garb, their height, and their race. Elves weren’t as commonplace as he thought they might be compared to all the different races he actually seen walking through the gates and out of them. If there were no obvious elves, Madivh let his attention drift elsewhere. When there were, he looked for green hair, and if they did, looked to see if they were druids. 

He was equally surprised to see that not many druids walked through the gates, but there had been plenty that had flown over. 

The roads and skies weren’t always busy though. During those quiet times, he practiced his magic control. Madivh used the natural shade of the trees, rocks, and the stone wall to focus the shadows to shift and come in closer around him. Basic, easy lessons he had learned as a kid, self-taught as he was, it came naturally. The magic obeyed, but the body rejected the magic. The shadows burned, or tickled, or provided some sort of discomfort. 

He lasted only a short hour the first day of messing with the magic. The rest of his time, he spent messing with the dagger and seeing how much muscle memory was actually in this body versus what he actually wanted. 

The second day was much like the first. Though, he came earlier than the day before and for the first several hours before noon he was welcomed to the sight of different faces. There were men coming back to the city for lunch covered in soot or dirt, the guardsman switched out shortly after noon for fresh faces, and there had been countless merchants that had walked by. Adding to the list, there was a group of patrol men who entered and left the city within a span of three hours, and about six different groups of mercenaries and adventurers departing. As the sun began to set, Madivh watched the same merchants leave with empty wagons, new merchants with wagons full, and the mercenaries returning with gloomy expressions on their faces and one less head to count for.

Sometime during that day, Madivh had let his mind wander about himself, or more precisely, who the body he was living in was. Who had been the man Jacorek had kidnapped, or had he been dead beforehand and Jacorek had simply looted the corpse? He hoped for the latter. A dead man walking was easier to explain as a coincidence of look-a-likes then if the man was considered missing and family was seeking him. 

Maybe the man was a wanted criminal and perhaps he should look into the matter in case someone came knocking with an arrest warrant. 

On the third day, Madivh had finally grasped his own magic long enough that he was able to cover himself in shadows for a solid minute before the control weakened and vanished. He grumbled to himself about how he could have held such magic for days, and had, for almost twenty-four hours once. He was strangely back to ground zero. The frustration showed itself as he practiced throwing his dagger at a nearby tree.  

As night began to settle, Madivh moved closer to the gate to get a better look at the people coming and going. 

He had decided sometime that day that it was possible that Nairus was coming to the city at night, and so far, he hadn’t stayed at his post past nightfall. Guards were always more aware of things at night, but now that he could use shadow magic a little easier, he planned on at least keeping his presence from being sensed if he couldn’t hold the magic fully to hide himself. 

What had solidified his decision was the final change of shift among the guardsman. Humans had been chosen for the night shift this turn; it had been elves and worgen the last several nights before.

Madivh was surprised by the amount of people who were returning to the city at night. There had been one or two merchants who were overwhelmed with relief to see the city, another hardened group of mercenaries who looked exhausted from the day, but not overly upset about their lack of success. Groups left as well, groups dressed in dark clothing who pushed their horses into a gallop as soon as they exited the city gates. 

There were lots of different colorful individuals as well. However, only one stood out that night. It was a lone man. A man with dark hair, a pair of swords, and leather enforcements. 

Madivh blood ran cold at the sight of him. Jacorek. But as his attention focused intently, he saw odd things on the man’s presence, and a lack of things as well. For instance, there were goggles the man had on him, and Madivh had never seen Jacorek wear such things. Another was that the man carried himself more like a typical civilian after a long day’s work, Jacorek had always carried himself with the confidence of a man who owned the world. 

The fourth day was a continuation of the third. Nairus had not shown up even at the strike of midnight. Madivh sniffled, eyes growing heavy, but he was determined. He was going to turn this into an all day event. Nairus would show up at some point, he felt it deep in his bones, perhaps, maybe, later in the night, he concluded. 

Madivh woke up to the sounds of hoofbeats. He jumped technically, having not realized he had fallen asleep. The light around him had grown softer and the skies were beginning to grow a deep reddish pink hue above. 

For fel’s sake. 

The hoofbeats were that of a large group of military men leaving the city. Still they were filling out and heading deep into the forest. A group of at least twenty lines of men, five in each row. 

Madivh frowned at the sight, before settling back into his spot, his dagger slipping back into its case.

Sunrise began to creep over the edges of the forest. The cool night air was churning into a heavier weight. Today would be overly hot. Maybe rain would be on its way? And maybe he should stop looking for Nairus. Four days and not a hint of any druid coming in or out of the forest. Maybe he was wrong with his deduction and Nairus had taken his druidic forms and was flying overhead. Or maybe he was right the first time and Nairus simply wasn’t planning on returning to the city.

“Nairus, is that you?” The name snapped Madivh out of his lull and focused on an elf dressed in robes, head covered, he was at the gates. Slipping by his notice while he thought of giving up. 

A guardsman had stopped the druid. 

“Morning, how are you fairing, Narji?”

The guardsman gave a short laugh. “Better, better. I heard that you got attacked, are you okay? What happened?”

There came a brief silence before Nairus waved his hand. “I did, but I’m well. I appreciate your concern,” he said a moment later. “I took a few days to collect myself, but I’ll be back at my station. Please, if you're still having issues come back and see me. I’ll be happy to help in any way I can.”

This did not sound like Nairus, but the voice was the same deep undertone. 

Madivh moved, gathering his bag and jogged his way into the edges of the forest. He quickly kept his pace, jumping over a few pieces of sticks before he jumped the fence line back on the path. He brushed himself down quickly, finding a loose leaf stuck in his shirt and pulled it out as he moved towards the gate. 

Nairus was ahead, already on the bridge into the city. As long as he kept him in sight, he could follow him until Nairus  stopped or reached his destination. Hopefully somewhere he could just blend in and approach him. Now that Nairus was before him, he wasn’t too sure if he should confront him. Maybe it was better to pretend he didn’t know Nairus. 

There have been a lot of maybe’s the last few days.

The guards were chattering as Madivh walked by. They spoke about the Shadowlands and how the guardsman, Narji,  had gone in the first wave and what had happened and when he awoke Nairus had been his tending healer.

Nairus led him through the trade district. He walked smoothly and casually, seemingly in no rush to go anywhere, but thanks to Nairus elongated legs, Madivh had to act like he was on a mission to go somewhere but didn’t want to make a scene by running.

Ah I wish I could stealth. He thought as a couple of people eyed him curiously in the early morning hours with barely ten people on the streets.

They went through a tunnel and entered the canals making their way over a bridge and began their way towards the harbor. A curious destination. 

As they rounded a corner, Nairus out of sight, Madivh kept himself in check and continued the stride he was on. When he rounded the corner, he was greeted with a seven foot tall elf looming over him.

“Is there something you need?” Nairus asked.

Jeez, he let his beard grow out. Came his first thought through the moment’s panic. “Ah, no, why?”

Nairus sighed. “You’ve been following me since you spotted me at the gates. “ Before Madivh could argue the point, which he had one in mind, Nairus pointed to his glowing amber eyes. “I can see perfectly in the morning light.” 

He felt himself pale for a moment before scoffing. “Okay, fine, you caught me.” Madivh raised his hands in defeat, taking a step back. “Yes, I actually had a question for you.”

“Then why not ask me beforehand?” Nairus said slowly, a hint of suspicion crossing his tone.

A nervous smile touched his lips. “Well, I wasn’t too sure how you handle hearing that I came back to life and was wondering if you’ve seen Mey?” 

A long, uncomfortable silence followed. Madivh glanced around, but there was not a soul out on this part of the street. He seemed to have failed in noticing such an obvious issue, he should have stayed further back, maybe even detoured when he realized they were heading towards the harbor.

When Nairus finally spoke, his voice was heavy, “Who are you?”

“Madivh,” He said with a quick smile. “Though I don’t quite look it. There’s some sort of resemblance, I promise, if you look closely enough.” 

Nairus went silent for a moment before he shook his head. “I’ll explain to you shortly. My memory isn’t as good as it should be right now. There is a section of my past I do not remember. How do you know Meyorin?” 

Meyorin? It sounded weird hearing her full name being stated. 

“Husband?” Madivh questioned. “What do you mean you don’t remember?” 

“Husband?” Nairus' shock was plain in his voice. “You?”

Madivh frowned. “Okay, close friend. Better for you? Why don’t you remember the name Madivh?”

Nairus seemed to relax, though it was hard to tell in facial expression, but the druid's shoulders seemed to fall. “The name does ring a familiar tone, I assure you,” he said, “But, I’m sorry. I am not at liberty to tell you anything about Meyorin. She was a patient of mine and--”

Madivh waved him off. “You don’t believe me. I understand. I heard you were attacked, I sympathise really. Listen. Nairus. We were friends, in a way, well we knew each other for a long time in human years. Either way, I’m not pulling your leg. The same person that brought Mey back is the same person that brought me back. I know she’s having trouble and I want to help her. Our son was kidnapped and being used against her, I want to make sure everything is fine. So I need to find her.”

It felt good to get what he had been feeling off his chest. He felt better.

Naiurs was strangely quiet. That good feeling was chased away and he found himself frowning again. 

“I see,” Nairus began. “Well, you don’t need to worry about that anymore. I-I do not know where she is, but I can tell you she rescued the person she was looking for. Whether that was your son or not, I couldn’t quite say.”

Really? “Silver-hair, half elf, ya?” Madivh found his temper taking him, but he didn’t necessarily care to bottle it.

Nairus went quiet again before nodding. “Yes.” He sounded a bit surprised. Then he leaned forward a tad. “Really? You two are mates?”

Madivh rolled his eyes. “Praise be, let's move on from that ya? Remember how I said I was brought back? I’m much older than I look. Different too.”

Nairus seemed to contemplate that statement before nodding. “I’m not lying either way. I don’t know where she is. After I was attacked, she gave chase and I haven’t seen her since. All I know is she’s safe right now, somewhere.”

The news was not what he wanted to hear. Four days. Four days of sitting outside these walls just to be mocked and no information. “You know anyone that could help? Maybe tell me who attacked you?” He figured it was Jacorek, but if what Nairus said was true and he didn’t remember him, would he remember Jacorek?

Nairus shook his head. “No to both questions. She only came to me when she was injured and when she brought the boy with her. We didn’t really talk. I’m sorry.”

The politeness seemed to draw a thin line of irritation. It was fake. Nairus still didn’t believe him, and for that, didn’t trust him. He could be lying, or telling the truth. Nairus had always been cunning in that department and it was impossible to tell which it was.

“Perfect. Well then, I’ll keep looking. If by chance I need to talk to you again, where can I find you?”

Nairus straightened and looked over his shoulder. “I’m a battle medic for the military stationed here at the moment.” He paused momentarily before giving a light shrug. “If she contacts me again, I’ll let her know you’re looking for her.” 

Madivh gave a brief smile. “Appreciated, and,” he said, looking the druid over for a moment. “Sorry for what happened. And thank you,” he added as the twins came to mind. “Thank you for what you’ve done. Even if you don’t remember, maybe it's better that way. Nonetheless, thank you.” He gave a half-hearted wave as he turned and began walking away. 

Nairus didn’t say anything nor did he move straight away. 

I knew finding her would be difficult, but god's blood Mey, why are you practically impossible to find even a hint of you anywhere? 

Mentioned: @divergent-lines​

On the first night, Nairus sat upon a cut log with the skies shaded through tree tops, a cool wind brushing through the leaves, and night time bugs chirping and singing in a cacophony of sounds that, in a sense, shouldn’t exist during the cooler times. 

But they did. These creatures that should have been long dead or hibernating were still carrying on; they were a good white noise to let his thoughts take him. Too which Nairus reflected on how his routine had become comfortable and almost enjoyable to him in the last week and a day. He was now longing for the sense of comfort that came from knowing what the next day would bring, but that routine had been shaken thanks to Mey’s visit only a few hours ago. Meyorin.

Nairus shook his head.

How was it that this person, a person he had no recollection of or any positive experience with, could draw his attention so much; draw his heart in a way that he felt he would never forgive himself if he let her go into the Shadowlands without aid?

Yet she had known him, and he had known her, deep down they had a relationship. The irony that both their memories were faded and missing, and yet, still know down into their souls that they knew each other. 

 Clearly, though, her’s was returning and his was a black wall. 

A deep breath drew Nairus back to the world around him, the trees rustling, the wood sighing; a storm was approaching.

Upon returning to work the next day, patients had recovered enough that they were sitting, talking, and thankful to be alive. Nairus gave them nods, asked a few additional questions, before giving them a slip of paper and telling them the directions in order to check out of the camp. They thanked him, leaving him with the few remaining that hadn’t yet woken.

New patients came in to replace the old ones; all bore physical wounds and organ trauma that required immediate attention. After several long minutes of restoring the wounds and internal damage, he gave each patient a shot filled with minerals and vitamin that would give their bodies the last remaining boost to stay alive.

 There was one patient that came in where his screaming was followed by pained gasp of breath; his skin was blackened, peeling, dying. Instinct carried Nairus to heal the man without any emotion or thought. The task being checked off as first he numbed the nerves in the body, looked inwardly, before going to the outer. Skin repaired itself, the pain of nerves relaxing and easing without the extra magic to close them off, and the tension in the patients muscles relaxed at last. In the end, scar tissue formulated around the areas that were worse, deeper, and as Nairus checked him over one last time, he cleared the patient of any additional physical damage. Anything else would be need to fix by someone else. 

Some come back in ways I cannot help them. His words echoed from last night dinner. 

He noted the man’s name, and number, wrote it on a piece of paper and called out to one of the guardsmen patrolling the area; he took it and off he went to  the healers that knew more about soul and body. By mid-afternoon, the man would be transferred to his next set of treatments.

This was Nairus routine, and in between all of that, he would sit down in his chair, allowed his mind to relax, listen, and wait.

Normally, he would rest and only awake if he heard a shuffle or a groan. Today, his mind wandered back too Meyorin, to her request, to the imaginings of what he would see if he went to the Shadowlands, what he would endure, how she would return from that place, damaged or broken or both; would she be one of the many that came into his tent crying for help, begging for the pain to stop, if he didn’t go?

Of course, who was he to think he needed to go specifically? He was no savior. Only a simple healer. There were hundreds of capable, and more trustworthy, healers in these tents, and even more looking for jobs that would happily help her with a little gold, too which he was certain she wasn’t hurting on based off the smooth steel of her weapons.

But she wanted his help, someone had prompted her to find someone to help her, and despite the rage and anger Meyorin had presented the first time, she had cooled, and even amused herself with a short conversation with him before leading onto her statement of the debt he owned her, that he had claimed he owed her. 

Nairus shook his head. Why couldn’t he let that one phrase go? She was baiting him, putting words into his mouth he hadn’t said. Was that the reason that phrase bothered him so? No one had been so obvious before. Then again, it proved how much she really didn’t know him. Debt was never a word he ever used. 

But why had she chosen him out of all the other healers? Yes they clearly shared a history that neither could remember, but she spat at him, threaten his life, and curled her lips at him. Why would she choose him when clearly she didn’t trust him?

As his mind mulled over the question, he eventually jumped back to reliving the whole conversation. How she appeared, the timing of her appearance, the way she sat in the chair leg over knee, leaning with an air of disinterest but confidence. The way it seemed she could have cared less if he was dead or alive, as long as he was useful.

It didn’t make sense. 

Meyorin had made it clear she didn’t want to see him except when she came to collect her debt on him. So why then had she twisted her own words to sounds like he had asked to pay the debt back? And who had asked her to bring a healer?

Nairus paused upon the thought, replayed her words in his mind. She had been careful with her wording the entire time. Perhaps then, it wasn’t just his words she had been twisting but another’s as well. What if they demanded her to bring a healer despite her arguments. 

Whoever that might be, clearly, Meyorin required them to get what she wanted from the Shadowlands, otherwise, he could see her disagreeing and moving on.

His smile came amusingly and with a chuckle as the reasoning he had then chosen him settled in like a puzzle piece. She chose me because if I died, got lost, or anything of ill will fell upon me, she wouldn’t feel any regret about betraying or letting me die. Someone else would be a burden. A hindrance. After-all, she had wanted to kill him the first time.

His eyes closed to that thought, his body relaxing finally as the question to his puzzle was finally answered. 

A short second passed before a new trail of thoughts entered his mind. He didn’t necessarily want to die for her, or be left behind in a place that caused people to return broken and hurting, but he remembered his own words to her in the forest that first night. He would prove to her that he was not the same person as before and this was a good enough time as any to show it.

Still...  

“We have another burn victim, do you think you can take one more?” A deep voice prompted his eyes to open just in time to see one of the other doctors walk in backwards carrying in a stretcher.

Nairus raised from his seat and ushered them over to the far end of the tent, he had two more spots before there would be only a pathway to the tent among beds. 

They set the stretcher down between two posts, cradling the person as the sheets sunk but steadied. “This Kal…”

The man’s voice kept going but it faded into the background and all he could feel was his heart racing, pounding like drums in his ears, his breath sharp and quick, and his body moving backwards. 

A female elf laid on the stretcher, blackened, leather pieces still attached, a small rational part whispered those needed to be cut off quickly before he could start mending the flesh again, and her hair was naturally black, with little groans escaping startled by a faint silver dull light coming from her eyes.

A pressure landed on his shoulder, tightly, drawing his attention to the hand resting on him, “--right?”

Confusion flickered through Nairus as his eyes drew towards the man.

“Are you alright?” A pause. “How long have you been working?”

Nairus' attention flickered back to the elf on the stretcher, silent, clearly from the initial treatment. No silver eyes faintly glowed back towards him, no armor laid on her skin, just a recently laid blanket, and her hair was a deep violet…

“I, I need a moment.”

He easily shook the man’s hand off and brushed through the tent flap; he heard the man call out after him, but no footsteps followed. 

It didn’t take Nairus long to find a place where it was quiet and no one else was around. A stone wall stood before him and the tents were twenty feet behind. His whole body rested against the wall, forehead touching, hands resting, as tears streamed down his face. 

He couldn’t get the image out of his mind of the silver-eyed elf, blackened, with leather clothing.

It wasn’t long until he was on the ground, robes collected around him, crying and sobbing as quietly as he could.

The pain drained from his heart and radiated into his chest. There were memories, he knew, tied to this pain, but there were no visions, no images. 

Nothing! His fist slammed against the wall in frustration as tears continued.

All he had was Meyorin's name coming into mind for the woman laying on the bed burnt to a crisp and her voice filled with rage and anger, “I know what you are.”

mentions: @divergent-lines​ and @kaelenar​           

A slow groan echoed in Nairus mind, a distant, but all too real sound as the fighter before him reacted to the magic at work upon the deep wound along his shoulder. The man wasn’t conscious, too which the groan meant little other than the fighter was responding to the druidic flow of energy converging upon that one spot letting his own body heal and stitch up the wound from the energy all around him.            There was also a limit too how much Nairus could give. After-all, there was moaning and groaning all around him sprawled out in medic tents, some on stretchers outside of those tents, and the rest huddled around chairs waiting patiently for broken limbs, cuts, scratches, and other smaller things to be attended too.

           Rustling came from behind him, and slowly, his gaze turned to the shadow of a figure slipping through the tent flap. A female elf dressed in white robes laced with the traditional black and purple. Nairus provided a small nod.

Her feature were grim and calculated. “Are you able to handle another?” she asked.

Eyes flickered to the three individuals laying on stretchers. They were quiet, soothed by his secondary spell to let them sleep. Inwardly, he was feeling low, a slow lethargic creeping into his legs and arms. Nairus stood and motioned out towards the side of the tent that laid near the entrance.

Sanas nodded, opened the tent flat, and allowed two male draenei to walk by her, ducking their heads, and with a faint motion by Sanas, they set another male down upon the bed; he was pale, silent, and there was an eerie draft forming in the tent.

The two draenei left without much of a word, and as Sanas went to duck out of the tent herself, Nairus voice paused her, “An undead?”

Her silver eyes eased over her shoulder. “A death knight,” she said softly, “You know they don’t respond to holy light.”

Nairus found himself frowning. “There’s a reason I am the one taking care of the tainted ones.”

Sanas took in a deep breath, let the tent flap shut behind her and faced him. “I’m aware, but right now, the main source of our injured are the death knights going through to the Shadowlands.”

He found his frown deepening. “Rumors…”

She shook her head. “I don’t care. They are injured and need a druidic touch, and at the moment, you’re the only one with the space.” Her tone shifted slightly easing into a touch of a smile. “We do appreciate your work, and your time, but you swore your oath too the alliance.” She said motioning to the death knight. “He also swore a similar oath.” She studied him for a moment, and when nothing came from Nairus in the span of two breath, she spun around and left.

Nairus didn’t move, allowing his emotions time to settle.

 His gaze trailed over to the death knight, the paleness, the lack of warmth, the spine-tingling sensation that screamed at him that this man was against the cycle, and then Nairus took in the gut wound that was stained an unnatural color.

With a step forward, Nairus rested his hand on the bandages; magic began to flow through him, though at first sensing his disdain and it refused to travel further than his elbow, but with a little push, the magic broke free.

There was a groan and easy breath as the death knight relaxed.

Nairus refused his seat as he watched the magic dance along the bandages before diving beyond and out of sight; the wound was large, smooth edges, and if the death knight had been truly alive before coming here, he would have died in transportation.

He took in a deep breath and edged to sit on the small space on the bed. There was little left to do but maintain the constant flow. In seconds, his mind broke from the scene before him and brought forth a new picture; An elf in the night, one eye glowing in an amber hue, the sick anger that twisted her features, the words she spoke in hatred. ‘I don’t believe you.’

He closed the image away, but all it did was bring up a new one with a dimming sun to shine on the same elf bringing forth the vibrant color of her purple skin, the burn marks over her face, and the scars over the eye that no longer glowed. The way she cried out “five-hundred on the shirtless one!” She was different, happier, and a part of him smiled at the memory of only a day before.

However, her threat loomed in the back of his mind. A week had passed since that conversation in the woods, and she hadn’t come to claim her debit. But he wasn’t a fool either. She would eventually, and when she came calling, would he had already decided he would do it, but not for the reasons she believed he would do it for. He was a healer, and she was hurting. She needed help. Just like the shirtless man  who had lost his fight, had lost the elf her five-hundred gold.

The magic began to shift. His eyes flickered to the death knight on the bed, narrowing slightly. The magic was slowing, finding that the holes it had been repairing were now fixed began fading into the air as excess, returning back to what it was before he called upon it. Nairus eased the magic into a slow trickle, his own body relaxed as the strain lessened.

Whoever the elf was, he was certain that she and him shared a past. The emotions that welled up with in him at the sight of her, the fact he could not let her go, afraid to even, spoke enough; a part of him remembered, begged for him to see the memories, but they would not come.

Not even when he had finally given in, willing to risk his own sanity, and used his own magic to seek those memories. 

They had been locked.

His hand withdrew from the death knight; the creature finally breathing evenly and comfortably. He rose from his seat and pushed back the tent flap.

Oranges and red’s greeted him high in the sky, stealing away the dark thoughts the tent conjured up. People were moving about, disappearing into tents, reappearing, and sliding between the gaps. He spotted a woman dressed in white garb. He waved at her, and she came jogging up to him. “I’m taking a rest. Let Sansa know that tent twenty is secure for the next hour.” She nodded, and he didn’t wait to see what she would do next. 

Part 1 Family Reunion

Part 2 Truths Within

Part 3 Refugee Meetings

Part 4 Doctor’s Memories

They didn’t go far. Madivh lead the way into the city, and upon arriving at the destination, he informed the waitress it was only the two of them, and then they were lead to their seats on the balcony above; it was a dwarven tavern with dwarven food. 

Nairus kept his frown the entire way, not seeming to be able to relax. He wasn’t sure why, but he accepted it for now as a thing he could not fix at the moment. 

Upon taking their seats, Madivh took off his hat and set it on the chair beside him, giving Nairus a wide smile and giving him a chance to get a good look at Madivh’s face. There was something off about him; it wasn’t matching the face that Nairus mind had crafted. Had it been so long since he had last seen the man? 

It must be. 

“You still refuse to drink?” Madivh said as the woman left with his order. 

Nairus stiffened then reminded himself this man did in fact know him. “Yes. Perhaps–”

Madivh continued, “Do you remember why?”

Nairus blinked as he tipped his head oddly in his confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Trying to gauge how much you’ve forgotten. So, do you remember why you don’t drink?” 

Nairus shook his head. “Just something I’ve never enjoyed.”

“Or being around drunk people?”

Irritation gritted at Nairu’s throat as he said, “How long have we known each other?” 

Madivh quirked a grin. “Well enough, it's been a while. I’m actually glad to see you in better spirits.” 

Naiurs stared thoughtfully. The warmth in the man’s voice was perhaps the most genuine emotion he had seen thus far. After a moment more, Nairus leaned back into his chair and took a deep breath. But he couldn’t find any words to say, and so he sat there, letting his eyes drift and his mind wander. Wonder if this really was a good idea or not.

Madivh said nothing in that silence, and so they seemed to be at ease with each other's presence until the waitress came back with Madivh’s glass of water and a meaty sandwich. The man’s smile was wide and his eyes glowed hungrily even as he thanked the woman.

Nairus had ordered nothing and was content in that. Still, the way Madivh acted as he looked over his sandwich, Nairus gave pause in the behavior before letting his gaze take in a more calculated look. 

His body was thin, muscles easy to see, and for his height and the way his clothes fit they seemed strangely looser than they should be in comparison to shoulder width and waist. 

Starvation? No. His eyes trailed to the hidden hat. Living on what is necessary. Not a lot of money. Not eating a proper diet. 

Nairus sighed. “If you want to order food to go, I can pay for it as well.” 

Madivh looked up from his sandwich that he was three bites in. Nairus could see the consideration being weighed heavily towards the acceptance of the offer.

Madivh smiled, laughed lightly, and said, “Military pay isn’t that great.” He took another bite, ate it, and added. “Don’t worry, we’ll have plenty of talks I’m sure. So,” he took a drink. “What bothers you most that you felt compelled to approach me?” 

Nairus eyes drifted, then rose once more. “Savian and Neia.”

His companion's eyes narrowed slightly. “Of course,” he chuckled. “A couple of young adults,” he phrased lightly. “I don’t know much of your history after the last time I saw you, but you were watching over them.” 

Madivh took a bite of his sandwich, and, when he didn’t continue, Nairus asked. “What do you mean watching?”

Madivh shrugged. “In the realm of too much too quickly I say.” He sighed. “But what I’m really curious about is, why do you remember me, but not them?” 

Nairus blinked, then scowled. “That’s why we are talking.”

Taken aback, Madivh’s lips quirked just the lightest with an amused grin that he was keeping well in check. He raised his hands. “Easy, easy.” Madivh smiled now. “I’m actually being sincere. You should have a better connection to the twi-two than to me. And honestly, we haven’t seen each other in well over a decade.” Nairus stared at him when it was clear Madivh wanted him to speak. He refused, and for that, his companion frowned and continued. “Which is a long time for us mere humans. So, you can see why I’m curious why you remember me well enough to call forth a few things, but with Neia and Savian, you can’t even picture a face.”

“How would you know that?”

“Because you wouldn’t be getting mad at me if you could.” He sighed resting his hand on his cheek. “Am I right?” 

Nairus felt a terrible pull to not answer him. “Yes.” 

A silence crept between them, hardly an easy one, but his companion seemed to not care or notice. He stared, waiting, in a patient way that was familiar and yet, it seemed odd coming from him. He’s calm. Shouldn’t he be more..

Images flickered in his mind, quick but clear. Images of the man, but with less freckles and a sturdier form; it was the same backdrop of wooden walls, incense filled candles and lighting, beer and food around with chatter about. 

Nairus looked away, closing his eyes at the memories, and realizing only then he had leaned forward. Nairus relaxed back into the chair. “So you aren’t going to tell me anymore about these two?”

“At the moment?” He paused, clearly for dramatic effect. “No.”

Nairus began standing up, and as he did, pulled out coins from his purse.

Part 1 Family Reunion

Part 2 Truths Within

Part 3 Refugee Meetings

Part 4 Doctor’s Memories

Mentions: @savianblackwood​

The busy street of the city moved around Nairus like a flowing river around a boulder, and like that boulder, Nairus didn’t seem to notice. His attention was on a flier stuck to the wall. An event was taking place today detailing a donation event for the refugee’s of Darnassus. The topic, plants and herbal remedies. Vendors would be sporting new and different plants as well as some familiar ones. Workshops and lectures would be ranging from learning about potions to starting and taking care of your own garden. 

Nairus was intrigued; it was being held by his own kind, which meant there could be something new he could possibly learn. 

A few small taps of his finger against his chin gave way to his decision. 

Nairus turned and joined the flow of the city, easily becoming one with it. He eased around the many twists and turns of the capital, smoothly spending only a few minutes in each district until at least he separated from the main streets and turned towards the back fields. The merry chatting of people bubbled all around him. 

Nairus stepped away from the dirt path, letting the druid magic of his warp his form, and he was in the air, wrapping talons along the thick branch of a nearby tree. The majority of groups made their way towards the vendors, while only a small section of the road was for those leaving with plants and bags in hand. By the entrance, a  woman was handing out pamphlets and a box with the word donation for those attending but didn’t necessarily find something to buy. 

A majority of the people were elves. He smiled at the scene. Refugees mostly, he could tell by the way they dressed and the more sun kissed skin of living outdoors instead of the cozy huts and shadows of what Darnassus was made up of. 

Druids were plentiful, naturally so, and a small portion seemed to be holding their own vending spot with papers and conversation and magic displays. Others seemed like botanists who had worked hard to grow their plants, and the rest had vials set up on display clearly meant for buying and teaching. 

The merriment and the excitement of the event warmed him, bringing back memories of a different time. He could scarcely remember it, but he wasn’t alone and he was happy and content. A feeling that he held onto as he watched all those enjoying themselves. 

This was good enough. Perhaps in a while he would go and join those below, but now, it was better to watch. 

The warmth of the sun found its way through his feather, and slowly, and without realizing it, Nairus laid his head down. 

“Hey!” The voice rose just enough to catch his attention. Half blurry eyes, Nairus rose his head from the crook of his wing. Confusion flickered on the way the world looked, but memories of taking flight and the hustle of the event reminded him. 

He had fallen asleep. A long sigh escaped him as he stood up and shook out feathers and muscles. The voice that had awoken him though came back to his mind. His eyes shifted among the crowd. Nothing was wrong, no one was running, no one was gathering. Perhaps a child getting lost or not listening. Then his eyes fell upon a stall nearby where a woman with red hair and a man with a hat were talking. 

Part 1 Family Reunion

Part 2 Truths Within

Part 3 Refugee Meetings

Part 4 Doctor’s Memories

In the gentle pull of the night breeze, Nairus stared down into the shimmering water. The distant cries and constant noise of the city was gone, too far away to be heard, too far away to be felt, yet the small settlement of farms just beyond the forest’s tree never gave him a sense of isolation as he wanted.

Though the moon was only a crescent of its former glory, it was bright enough that he could see the lines of his own body being reflected back like dark shadows. The sounds of the night time critters had been quiet for sometime, leaving only a blank silence, that was welcoming and reassuring. 

It was the only time he could clearly think, too let down the walls he instinctively build up when people were around; those walls protected him from the scorn of love ones coming to view their dying family member, the pleading eyes of the dying as he lied to them about being able to help only to ease them to their death so it felt like nothing but sleep til their own bodies gave way. He needed to shun and lose all sense of who he was leaving only what was important and logical for diagnoses and understanding. He needed those walls when the trauma of the wounded would shout and curse and blame him. Trauma… Was that the reason for his memory issue? The magic’s ritual had done something to seal his memories of the time away, but now if it was no longer there as his sister had led him to believe, then what was keeping those memories from resurfacing? 

Nairus closed his eyes as he looked away from the water surface and faced the trees and their shifting leaves. 

Walls. He didn’t want to remember. Too much pain for his mind to take on its own. Maybe he should go see a doctor to help him. 

A silent breeze passed by, brushing back his robes into the rock he sat upon, exposing his feet to its cold touch. 

Even if he saw a doctor, he already knew what the process would be, he could do it on his own.

Silently the breeze returned, putting his robes back neatly in the grass so it covered his feet once more.  

If he was his own patient, he would recommend a specialist. 

But that will get me discharged. And where could I work where my father and his many friends wouldn’t be able to watch me and report back every little thing I do? 

 There was a few ticks of silence. 

I could just start my own business. But with what money? 

Some time passed, and Nairus found himself staring back at the water's reflection. During those bits of silence, he found himself wandering back to the red-headed man. What had he called himself? Madivh? His eyes closed at the name, feeling that familiar pull, but where curtains should have pulled back slowly, he could easily picture a face to that name. A different face, yet the eyes and hair were the same. His mind stuttered with sudden realization. A memory so faded that he could not bring anything to mind except the two names his sister had mentioned. Neia and Savian.

That man was connected to those two people, he knew it deep down inside, like he had known Mey was not lying about the boy, Synric, who he had been taking care of until he had been stabbed. 

Nairus’s hand drifted to his stomach. Even though months had passed since then, he could still feel the slide of metal cutting through him as easily a knife through butter, and the man’s maniacal grin; it sent a cold shiver through his spine, and the forest seemed to retreat from him and the wind began to settle leaving the air heavy and cold.

Be silent. He thought towards himself and forced a deep long breath. Slowly, he began to unclench his tight fingers and let his arms lay back in his lap. 

A sigh long and heavy escaped him.

Part 1 Family Reunion

Part 2 Truths Within

Part 3 Refugee Meetings

Part 4 Doctor’s Memories

Nairus stood staring at the bodies of the dead. A total of twenty-five. They were wrapped in body bags, laying on the grass, with identification tags on the zippers. All men and women fought and died in a skirmish against a band of mercenaries that had ambushed them while on patrol. 

Nairus identified them all. Easy enough with simple wounds compared to the grotesque destroyed bodies from Shadowlands and Kul’tiras bodies. He shivered at the thought, and then finally turned from the sight to head back into the medical building the army had secured by the harbor.     

When he turned though, he stilled as he noticed a human male walking towards him. Focused on him. The man eyed Nairus up and down. “Nairus Amberleaf?”

Nairus nodded. 

“Faevanna Amberleaf is here to see you, she’s waiting for you at the front gates.” 

Nairus' eyes narrowed lightly. “Did she say why she was here?” 

The man casually threw one hand in the air dismissing the notation. “No, only that it is obvious why since you two share the same last name.” 

A taste of a smile tipped Nairus lips upwards. He could see Fae’ lecturing the man about the important role she was in, who her father was, and who he was keeping her from seeing. “Was there anyone else with her?”

The man shook his head. “Are you going to see her or not?”

Nairus gave a short nod. 

Relief clearly found the man’s shoulders as he turned and allowed Nairus to lead the way. Nairus had no objections. 

The military base that had sprung up after the Kul’tiras war set right near the harbor; it was small and only allowed a a few buildings, one being meant for medical purposes, the other for storage, and the third for magic transportation of goods and people, which was to say, that a battle mage was stationed in the building at all times in case of emergencies. Thus the building had been turned into a mix of temporary residential rooms, a holding cell, and a lobby for other military personnel to hang around in while they waited for their day to start or for orders. That building was the building closest to the gate, and they had to walk around it before they could see the fence line and its magically enhanced traps. 

Fae’ was waiting for him. Her long drudic robes covering her appropriately, her deep green hair tied into a bun while loose braids hung at the edges, and her arms were crossed with thin lips to emphasize her displeasure. They had only taken a few more steps out of the building's shadow before she noticed them. Her light silver eyes grew wide, her arms unwinded, and her fingers clasped into each other hiding her lips from view. She looked like she might be praying, but those eyes gave her away. She was holding herself back from breaking into tears and rushing over too hug him. l

As they came to stop at the gate, Fae’ said nothing, remembering some sort of measure in her title. The guard stuck his hand out, a thin line of magic eased through the gates and the magic traps; both opened and went quiet.