#niniyv

Aranola turned back to her contemplation of the view, hands gripping the railing, perhaps a touch too tightly. This was, in some ways a homecoming. In others, it was a performance, as much of what Aranola did was a performance. Let the weak sunlight fall just so on the silver circlet pinning her fall of rich, violet hair. Let the faint breeze stir her lilac skirts just so around her legs. Let her shawl drape just so to accentuate her elegant posture. Perfect.

The first indication she had that her guests had arrived on the terrace was a whiff of something unpleasant. It wasn’t overpowering, not enough to name it for what it was—corruption, in all its myriad forms. She turned, the red of her tattoos glinting in the fading sunset.

“You’ve made it!” she smiled, opening her arms expansively. Her eyes flickered over Niniyv, midnight dark burning teal with the contained fel power under her skin, and then to Aeternita, her former brilliant reds washed to a cold and stale pink in death. If either was impressed by Ara’s show, they didn’t look it.

“Aranola, I was surprised to receive your invitation.” Niniyv said, blunt as ever.

Ara lowered her arms, stepping carefully towards the table she had had the servants set for them. “The last time we all saw each other, the world was ending. And somehow, the world survived. I thought it might be a hypothesis worth testing.”

Aeternita huffed a laugh. “A toast to the world unending, then?” she asked.

Aranola gestured to the glasses on the table. “I should think so.” She pulled out a chair, but then moved around so that she could take the chair with her back to the wall. She glanced between her former friends and the waiting chairs. “Shall we?”

The other two stepped fully onto the terrace. Niniyv settled in the corner with her back to the side-edge of the terrace, and Aeternita took the chair with no view, her back to the edge. Before either could say anything, Aranola offered an apologetic smile. “It’s a long story,” she murmured, “but I much prefer to have something solid behind me if I’m going to be sitting for any length of time. Drops I cannot see make me nervous.”

Niniyv and Aeternita glanced at each other. They both smiled. “We’ve all been through quite a lot. Who are we to judge?” Niniyv said. The demon hunter reached for a glass, and poured for herself, then into Aranola’s offered glass. Aeternita politely accepted one as well.

Aranola raised hers. “To better times,” she said with a melancholy smile.

“To better times,” the other two responded, tapping their glasses together gently. Niniyv knocked back half the glass, while Ara watched over the rim of her glass and took a small sip. Aeternita left the liquid untouched, toying instead with the glass on the table.

An uncomfortable silence stretched between the three as the sun dipped lower. Niniyv took a breath, but was cut off from speaking by the arrival of two servant girls, bearing trays with dinner. The light pasta and salad was dressed and sauced so well that the delicious aroma nearly drowned out the inherent unfortunate odor of Ara’s former friends.

“Thank you, that should be all we need. Feel free to take the rest of the evening off.”

“The clean-up—” the girl from earlier was bold enough to begin to ask.

Ara waved a hand. “I will see to it that it gets done.”

Murmuring thanks, the two girls left. Aranola served, filling all three plates. Niniyv, who had always favored heavier foods, nodded over a rueful smile. Aeternita again accepted politely, but did not pick up her fork.

The two women ate quietly for long moments. Eventually Aranola glanced at Aeternita. “I…” She summoned up a look of concern. “I had not realized you could not eat at all, Aeternita.”

The death knight shrugged. “Not entirely true, but it benefits me little, and serves mostly to remind me of a pleasure I no longer feel.”

“I see,” Aranola said. Niniyv was careful not to look at Ara, masking what? Aranola tilted her head, trying to discern the expression through the guise of watching the liquid swirl in her glass. Incredulity, maybe. Or contempt.

Aranola sighed. “What would you have me do, Niniyv? I mean, look at you. Both of you. How does one…?” She artistically held back a touch of a tear. “I was overjoyed when your names reached my ears, that you had survived! To find that I was wrong—”

“Not entirely wrong,” Aeternita said. “To survive and to live seem to have different meanings, these days. I have made my peace, Aranola. Eat your pasta. I hope you enjoy it, even. Somedays, I wish I could, but.”

She looked away, staring blankly into the house. “If nothing else, I am glad to fight for the life of this world.”

Niniyv grinned, slurping a noodle. She swallowed and then said, “Me, I have no regrets. I did what needed to be done. You’d have done the same, Ara, in my shoes.”

Aranola lifted her head. She thought about protesting, but realized it didn’t really matter. Niniyv had never been one to change her mind easily.

They struggled to think of something to say in silence as Aeternita’s food grew cold and the sun fully set. A billow of smog from the Broken Shore below cut off the stars. Niniyv watched the smog roll over the sky, chair tilted back. “I wonder what’s happening now,” she mused. “It only gets this bad when something’s up. I should go—”

“Wait, please,” Aranola said. The other two women looked over at her, concerned, confused. Two shadows detached themselves from the corners of the terrace, visible only to Ara’s eyes, shrouded in Ara’s magic. Niniyv half-rose from her chair, sensing something, but it was too late for that. As she reached for a weapon she had not brought to a meeting of old friends, a knife slipped under her ribs. A second knife found Aeternita’s heart. No time to cry out. No fuss, no mess.

The two succubi threw the bodies over the edge of the terrace. Aranola stood up and made her way to the railing. For just a second, she watched her former friends as they fell. Then she turned away, fingering the soulshard that hung as a pendant under her shawl.

“Thank you for your help, initiate,” a warlock said, stepping out of the house and onto the terrace. Ara raised fel-stained eyes, no longer masked by the vestiges of the priestess’s shadow magic she still held. She bowed, slightly.

“You are certain this will help?” she asked.

The warlock chuckled, low, menacing. “The head of the Illidari is dead. That you were able to secure one of the leading death knights as well is just a bonus, and much to your credit, initiate. We have begun to purge the corruption from within the defenders ranks. Soon, soon, our bargain shall be struck. Rest assured, you and yours will be safe when the reckoning comes.”

Niniyv was impressed. They’d thought to poison the blade, which was just about the only thing that was currently inconveniencing her. Dizzily, she fought to free her wings from the cloth wrap she’d artfully draped around herself to give an illusion of normalcy. Growling under her breath, she ripped the fabric away and let it fall.

Wings free, she strained to check her downward spiral. Biting back a yelp, wings flared, she gripped just a touch of her power and let it burst beneath her. The sudden updraft gave her the break she needed to right herself, while the sudden infusion of fel energy cleared her head. She caught sight of Aeternita, dropping heavily next to her. As Niniyv’s descent slowed, Aeternita slipped farther away. Niniyv dove.

It was more of a controlled fall than an actual catch, but Niniyv was able to somehow stop both of them from slamming into the rough sea below with enough force to break them. The fel of her spell drained away in the cold water, and her head began to swim again. Clumsily, her grip weakening on Aeternita, she began to move in what she thought was the direction of the shore.

Aeternita’s arms closed around Niniyv’s waist. “Come now, it’s just a little poison,” the death knight said, deadpan.

“Easy for you to say, when you don’t have any, you know, circulation,” Niniyv grumbled tugging insistently in the direction she’d been trying to go.

Aeternita hauled the demon hunter around with easy efficiency, and began to swim in the other direction. She was careful to keep Niniyv’s head above the water, taking facefulls of swirling sea herself. Niniyv leaned forward. “Lucky, really, you don’t have to breathe,” she offered, her words lacking their usual precision.

Aeternita frowned, and ducked lower in an effort to swim faster. Dark and forbidding, the edge of the Broken Shore rose slowly before them.

The warriors were not the only ones periodically scouting the Broken Shore. The Archdruid had sent several scouts to keep an eye on the tomb; an early warning if the hordes pouring from the breach did something more than beam up to ships to be redeployed or gather in menacing groups waiting for orders.

Dezideran had been happy to volunteer. He was still rather shaky from his brush with the Nightmare, still stiff and unpracticed in a physical body after years hibernating. Here, all he had to do was watch, and perhaps flee precipitously if he was unlucky. Carefully blending in the shadows in a crevice between two boulders, he wasn’t too worried about being spotted.

Behind him, something splashed. He froze. Slowly, his ears twitched, to catch the sound of something being dragged up onto the dirty sand just below his perch. Ragged breathing accompanied an influx of a pungent death smell. There was no large influx of additional demon scent to add to the overwhelming fel cocktail that wafted constantly over the Shore. Curious, Dez shifted position.

A death knight, armorless, stood on the sand. A ragged hole in her shirt was stained a foul green, but she otherwise seemed uninjured, unfazed. Lying next to her, a semi-conscious demon hunter stifled a groan.

“An’ what now? Call f’r backup?” The voice was slightly slurred, with pain, perhaps, but it was immediately familiar to Dez. He paused, suddenly uncertain. This was not how he’d meant to find Niniyv.

Aeternita—and now that he knew the one, the identity of the other was painfully obvious—squinted in the direction of the city floating away and above. “I don’t know.”

“Don’ s’pose you still have any first aid tricks?” Niniyv asked.

“Poisons rarely bother me, Niniyv, I don’t usually need to plan for treating them,” Aeternita snapped. “Sorry. I’m just. Aren’t you supposed to be,” she flapped a hand. “What was the point of turning your back on everyone if it can’t even help you through a little poison?”

Niniyv squinched her face, obviously unhappy with the question. “’T won’t kill me,” she growled. “T’s just inconvenient. F’r a bit. I’m all fuzzy. And weren’t you ok with this?”

Aeternita huffed a disparaging laugh. “What made you think I was all right with your decision? When I …woke up… I went looking for you. To think that you would leave your child, and turn to the very thing that drove us all apart…bah. We have bigger problems. The first of which is that you are flat on your back when you are supposed to be this all-powerful—”

“Not all powerful,” Niniyv interjected. A brief silence fell between them. Predictably, Niniyv filled it. “Haven’t thanked you yet, h’ve I? F’r watching Kiri?”

Aeternita looked down at her. “No.”

Niniyv nodded. “Prob’ly should. When I’m thinking straight.”

“You could now,” Aeternita grumbled.

“Psssshh,” Niniyv hissed. “Wouldn’t mean asmuch, would it?”

Aeternita didn’t answer. Dezideran thought now might be a good time to point out that he was, well, eavesdropping. Especially since Niniyv had turned a little greener since they’d landed. Steeling himself, he jumped down, dropping any pretense of stealth.

Both women reached automatically for weapons they weren’t carrying. Sitting, Dez raised his forepaws, shifting back to his natural shape as he did. Hands up, he said quietly, “I didn’t think I needed to be watching behind me. The bad guys are all that way.” He nodded inland.

Niniyv flung herself upright at the sound of his voice, then clutched her head. Aeternita stared at him, eyes cold and unblinking. “They still are,” she said.

“Fair point,” Dez said. “I didn’t write you any letters explaining my thoughts on…everything. To be honest, I didn’t know you were. Ah.”

“Around?” she offered, raising an eyebrow.

He turned his hands, lifting them in agreement. “I’m on your side. Bigger problems, and all that.” He once again waved inland.

“Should I leave you two to it, then?” Aeternita asked. Both she and Dez looked to Niniyv.

“This’s not how I thought this’d go,” Niniyv muttered. She looked up at Dez. “You said you were a druid now.” She half-laughed at the thought. “You got anything f’r this?” She gestured to the wound in her side.

“Casting out here is a bad idea. They’ve got magic sniffers patrolling. But I’m so clumsy at it anyway, they might just ignore the lack of threat.” Carefully he moved over to sit next to her. “Maybe if I keep it small,” he mumbled to himself, hand pressing just a hint of something vibrant and green to her side.

Niniyv hissed at his touch, drawing a ragged breath. A moment later, her color began to return to normal. Turning her head, she studied him as her mind cleared. “You look the same,” she said, quietly.

Pulling his hands back to his lap, he made a slightly strangled noise. “You don’t.”

She shrugged, turning the movement into a roll of her shoulders, stretching to see how it felt. “It made sense at the time,” she said, which was all the explanation Aeternita had gotten from her as well. She nodded up at the death knight. “Throw one her way too, could you? Even if it doesn’t circulate, I’m sure it burns at the spot.”

“Aw, you do care,” Aeternita said. “Don’t bother, Dez, it’s a mild inconvenience, and you said magic might attract the demons’ attention. And we are all unarmed.”

Dez tilted his hand back and forth. “Technically, I’m armed.”

The two women shared a glance. “Somehow, that’s not very comforting,” Niniyv said, letting a gentle lilt color the phrase with a shadow of her old teasing. Relief flooded through him. They might be ok, eventually, if she could still laugh at his poor combat skills.

He grinned back. “C’mon,” he said, standing. “There are some warriors who keep a small boat just around the bend. They might let us borrow it.”

He offered Niniyv a hand up. Aeternita was already walking in the direction he had indicated. Niniyv glanced at her friend’s retreating back, then grabbed Dez’s hand. He pulled her to her feet. She was still shorter than him, even with the horns. For a long, terrible moment, they just stared at each other, utterly uncertain in a way they had never been. He reached forward, tugged her blindfold up, and met the ruin of her eyes with a soft gaze.

“What do you see?” he asked.

“A falling world. So many targets to remove in order to cleanse that world. But if you mean, right in front of me?” She reached out and carefully traced a finger along his jaw. “Something tried to taint even you,” she said softly. “I can still see its echoes.”

“I’m stronger than that,” he said.

“Hmm, I believe you,” she said. “What do you see?”

“Desolation.” He sighed. “But I will try to look past what my mind is screaming is a ruin. After all, you have always been stronger. Certainly stronger than any taint.”

She shook her head slightly. “All talk, then. Let’s go.”

“Niniyv—” He caught her arm, pulled her in, carefully burying his face in her hair, tightening his arms carefully around her back, trying to avoid wings and horns— She froze for one long moment, before lifting her wings, ducking her head, hiding her burning eyes against his shoulder. Ten thousand years, and this would never be enough. Too much to work through, to talk about. The distance might threaten to engulf them, drag them down to drown in decisions long since made.

Aeternita, somewhere down the beach, turned, and then stomped back. “Good to see nothing has changed,” she snapped. “You’ll have time for this later.”

Niniyv,

I remember when words between us were as easy as breathing, as expendable and necessary as air. I managed to salvage some of our letters from the ruin our home became when the world broke. I have kept them safe, believing them to be all that was left of you and Kirielle.

I wondered for a long time, if my family wasn’t part of the problem, all those years ago. Our casual sorcery enhanced our alchemy, but perhaps it was more than just another drop in the ocean of all the magic that swept the world away. I turned to other pursuits. You would have laughed so hard to see me struggling to learn to walk as a druid does, to cast as a druid does. I have slept so much of my life away, protecting this world, yes, but also believing that I was alone, and that I had helped to make myself so.

I dreamed often of somehow finding you and Kirielle alive. I never dreamed that you and I would take the same route. Surely embracing such magic as you have done is no different than hibernating for centuries. After all, I am no decent druid. When pressed, I fall into old familiar habits, the arcane welling deep within me in a way the natural power never quite managed. Magic is only as dark as the hand that casts it.

What I am trying to say, perhaps clumsily, is that I do not blame you for finding yourself alone, and wanting to change yourself so that you would not see the world broken again. If you can find it in yourself to forgive me for holding the way open, but being unable to follow, all those years ago, I would very much like to see you again.

With love and trepidation,

Dezideran

Dez,

I—

Forgive you? For saving us? There is nothing to apologize for. I do not know if it helps, but I looked for you for years before I realized there was some insurmountable gulf between where you had remained and we had ended up. If I regret that I left Kirielle behind in my search, that I never returned to her in my despair at what the world had become—

It hardly matters. She thinks I am some kind of monster, for taking this path. She does not remember what we lost, I think. But I will not ask you to choose between us. Speak with her first, and if you feel you will not be caught between—if you feel you can bear to face what we have become—I, too, would like to see you.

We will save this world, Dez. And after…well, we’ll have to see what happens.

All my love,