#sailsonaseaoffate

It's laughable to believe the hero for hire wouldn't tumble from that wagon and land in the dust in the most awful of ways as he had done countless times before. Granted this time, Zexx Candell was not really in the dirt he had grown up in. There were no trees of Goldshire sparkling in the forever spring that seemed to hold to the orchards. No waves of golden wheat of Westfall far as the eye can see. Of course there was a sea, but it was nothing like the briny blues he had traveled under the matching clear blue skies of Azeroth.

This was the Astral Sea.

One might perceive it to be an endless void of twinkling lights that was space, to be fair it was rather endless but it was anything but a void. Life among the stars was plentiful and rich with a diverse cast of people that would make any homegrown child of one world's head spin a thousand times round to try and drink it all in. Animals, machines, spirits, and whatever else could climb from the depths of imagination flocked like rowdy seagulls to ports strewn about the vast galaxy of planets. It was an adventure unimagined. Until you were alone.

The gloom would come on slowly at first. A testy word followed by a sickly melancholy that clung to the heart like barnacles to a hull had festered on the man with only a few at first, dragging him to a snails edge. But then he would scrape it clean. Seal it up again and press on once more. But it never left. It just waited. The gloom was always patient and steady, it would know when to strike.

Four hellos. Four children. Four years. Four goodbyes.

To be fair such a poetic eight words was a little off as technically there had been five counting his 'father'. Was Eld really his father? There was an Eld who had been and this man had looked to fit the bill. But he wasn't his Eld just as he wasn't his Zexx. They had each already lost one another and long since come to grips with those losses, knowing what the verse had thought those aged faces should be was a cruel joke to say the least. They'd parted with respectful words and finality, the way open once more to where they had come from. It had been for the best for both of them. For all of them.

"For all of us," murmured the hero as blinked slowly, his mismatched eyes looking up into the slowly turning space far away from him.

There was a nudge against his leg as Zexx blinked again and tried to sit up from his prone position, the low groan burning through his stomach as much as his chest and head as he tried to focus above him. The figure above him was shadowy and loose in the low light of the alley as the focus found the lowlight blue of an astral elf's glare, his half helm so familiar in it's ancient future that it almost made him think he was back in Old Town in Stormwind.

The elf spoke first the musical words of empire's language, each word as luscious as a fragrant flower caressing one's cheek in the summer.

Zexx coughed and found himself sitting up with a groan as he rubbed at his prosthetic green eyes as he did his best to ignore the soft whirl of the machine's working as it connected. "I don't speak guitar."

A snort followed as there was an audible click at the insulting connotation of their language as the helmet's receiver translated out loud the original wording with a less than enjoyable garble. "You can't sleep here."

Spitting to the side, the human would nod slowly as reached up to smooth back his messy hair and try to gain some semblance of order to his disheveled look. "Yeah yeah, I know. I'm movin on."

There was a click of heavy coral steel boots as the constable gave more of a berth to the man who now got to his feet. He was tall and a bit leaner than he ought to be, not to mention the heavy streaks of grey throughout his wild beard and dirty hair. The mismatched eyes noted the artificial heterochromia to his one blue eye against the soft glow of his other emerald eye. To say the least, he looked like hell on a street corner and honestly it was a nicer way to describe the current state of Zexx Candell.

The hero for hire raised his hands in mock surrender to the demands as he began to stumble up the alley, the allure of port of Potpick ringing in his ears as he closed to his eyes to ease the discomfort of his half digital vision. He needed a drink. And some spice. And some laurel leaf.

"Halt human."

Zexx stopped.

"Identify yourself."

The sigh that exited him could have been a hurricane as he called back over his shoulder. "Judging by your order there, I think we both know you already know who I am."

"Hands up."

Zexx opted to keep them raised still as he let his head loll back and open his eyes again searching into the great cosmos of the Astral Sea again. "I picked a bad time for a nap."

If one could imagine harps laughing, it would be the sound of the commander as he knelt down to grow closer to eye level with his newly returned prisoner. "My apologies, I had no idea you would be cold. The sea's bounty is as rich as it is empty to my kind. Trivial matters such as that mean very little to us these days. Come you must rise. We must see to your attire and presentation."

Coughing and spitting again, Zexx would feel the heavy steel claws of the watcher golems grasp his arms and lift him to his feet again. Bucket headed, barrel chested with a tangle of retractable arms with the same starlight sheen of coral steel were all to ready to follow the sharp noted whistle of their warmaster as the techno priest followed with his alit keypad vest. "The hospitality of the elves still is unmatched."

"Oh you know, her ladyship, would nothing less for her most favorite little light," the commander spoke again with the tint of a strummed chord as he began to lead his entourage to the exit of the receiving platform. The common of the elf was still broken though clear enough to make Zexx's spine shudder at the mention of the 'ladyship'.

Ana'yse Centaruiach. The Governess of the Titan.

The doors to the platform would slide with a sigh of magical science allowing access and the scent of lilac to flow over them all causing the commander to breath deeply in with a matching sigh to the entryway. Zexx felt sick to his stomach smelling the flowers, that he knew in his heart had been burned long ago into the memory of the titan's husk before the Empire had raided it's corpse. Grave flowers were not something the elves had actually ever really thought about since death was the most unnatural of occurrences for them anymore. As long as they continued to feed on the rest of the universe.

"So how's the leech life going for you? Still feeding on this corpse or are you all collecting new stars munch on?" The disturbance of the quiet march through the halls of the forward base caused a fingering of the keys from the warmaster in a flurry of notes before the sharp clench of the golem caused Zexx to very audibly gasp.

Most villainous lot would parry back with a little barb with a matching snarky comment. 'Such bravado from a captive' or 'you will bite your tongue less I take it!' But not this commander, there was a nonchalance of a shrug to follow as they marched and dragged. Did he not care? Did he accept what he was? Such an idea was almost as sickening as it was terrifying. "Antioch does well for my people. The Empire grows stronger by the sec. You will see such progresses, Mister Candell."

Starlit shining eyes would turn to face him with a warm smile as the harp played once more in his words. "It is breathtaking."

Zexx would divert his eyes and do his best to keep the shudder from his breath as the silent laughter of the commander would ring imaginatively in his ears.

The quintet would continue on, the steel lined halls slowly growing more opulent as they left the sterile military wings into the more aristocratic and luxurious that the elves of the Xaryxisan Empire were known for throughout the galaxies. Cold austere coral steel soon replaced with the bleach blonde lumber of the Ferian quadrant that long been conquered and harvest by some far to long lived emperor of a begotten time. Such was the way at times when those bent the knee rather than be eradicated by the harvest seeding of the star moths ships that the elves used to curate the fuel that granted them such powers.

Candell would do his best to forgotten the sight of the Giff moon, Tanos. The bright light burned the world to a cinder had happened far quicker than he thought possible for such a large world. But the seeds had taken root, the strange stalks had grown, and they had drained everything from that water world till it was nothing but a sandy rock that died as quickly as it's inhabitants.

Vibrant light spilled through shimmering crystal glass as the sight of the city world of Antioch shimmered within the hollowed skull of Antioch, a neon kaleidoscope splashed with the colors of the Astral Sea not far beyond cosmic bones. It would have been truly beautiful to see such a life in the broken frame of a fallen entity if it were not for the many splashes of crimson regale of the Empire and it's golden Solar Dragon shifting menacingly across the drapery. One would think that a breeze was constantly keeping it alive in it's serpentine dance to a song that all elves spoke with. But it was only one thing to the enemies of the state.

Cacophony.

Time was lost as they traveled, the ectoplasm long since burned away from the hero's frame as was with the viscous of the swarm cell's spiritual vomit. There was likely a less colorful term for it, but as far as Zexx was aware there could be nothing else to call it from the mindless hive workers the elves had enslaved a millennia or so ago. Space bees is what he remembered Rey calling them. Gwynn had spoken sadly when she saw what they were forced to build out of the gathered sea coral. He missed those two. Wayward daughters always wandering. Or being pushed away.

Zexx's head slumped further as he felt the rush of the travel disk whisk them away to the above crowds.

There was a soft tap to his head causing him to look up slowly with his mismatched eyes.

"If you look there, you will see the hive has already repaired what you did before," the commander smiled again, the plucking of strings causing no relief in his beautiful toned voice. "You and those children of yours caused a mess."

Zexx would tilt his head to the left and spot the wreckage that was the former shipyard. Former was a weak description as it looked more like the newly renovated. It was twice the size from before and covered in the hive as they swam through the thick atmosphere of Antioch's corpse in their world of growing the the ever expanding armada of Star Moths in service of Xaryxis.

"The nautiloid fleet guided here by you and kin was a harrowing few days battle," the commander continued, his hands folding easily behind his back as the neon lights of the city flashed across his beautiful woven tunic and regalia. "But no matter what those flayers had planned, it was nothing we could not quiet easily enough. Costs were paid of course. You are aware."

"I am aware those squids were hungry," Zexx muttered. "And they like the taste of your tune."

The commander did not smile this time, his lips growing tight as he turned away from his prisoner. There was a selfish satisfaction in getting under the skin once compared to the lashes he'd been dealing to Candell. Take your victories when you can get them.

Flashing lights began to slow and the disk began to approach it's final destination of the governess's domicile, a high towered coral forged manor house floating over the main city ever in a constant watchful eye from above at it's citizens below. The floating manor held a small flit of damselfly jammers that patrolled to keep the air safe, a stolen technology for a lesser priority job of the local constabulary. Layers above were displayed with opulence, coral and living finery meshed into a garden of extraterrestrial fauna forged by plunder into the high finery of the upper aristocracy. Centaruiach was no stranger to the fine things in life. Or death.

Death was no finality among the empire with those who fell to the Solar Dragon's breath, were burned and returned with the fires of those the sea in their stolen frames to be the elite of Xaryxisan military might. The Unyielding. Dead men tell no tales as pirates would say in Zexx's younger days, they also didn't question orders. And so the black armored creatures would stand in silent watch over the manor in their horizon forged gear, each plate touched and shaped in void to reflect no light. Only the golden light of the eyes could be seen in the head wrappings that hit who or what they may have once been. Service was all they knew now or ever would.

Zexx did his best not to shudder at seeing them again.