#thefugitivemango

Grakkar winced, and grunted. Another nameless whisper echoed from the back of his mind. A voice he didn’t recognize, calling out his name. He heard them clearly more often his dreams, but… sometimes, throughout the waking day, he’d hear them. It wasn’t always the same voice, and they didn’t always call out his name. All of this starting after he came back from that place… from the Maw. In truth, a part of him didn’t believe Sinafay when she’d told him what her Ebon Knight friend had said. It had seemed so outlandish a claim. But seeing it for himself… it was now undeniable. Countless souls trapped in such a terrible, desolate place! He wondered… were they the voices he was hearing? According to clan shamans, near-death experiences often awoke a spiritual connection between a person and the afterlife.

And Grakkar had come as close to death as anyone could get.

For now, he pushed the concerns from his mind. He wasn’t going to let these strange voices dampen his appreciation for lasting to another sunset with his daughter. Gently, he put Neelah down in her bassinet, and swaddled her in a warm blanket. 

“Sleep in peace, my little one.” he smiled, leaning in to plant a gentle kiss on her hardening forehead. “Know that I love you, now and always.”

Sinafay smiled from the doorway as she watched her mate put their daughter to bed. She’d never imagined herself as a mother, but having a child with Grakkar was by far the best thing that had ever happened to her. She hadn’t been able to cherish these moments as of late, too tired and stressed to appreciate them after Argonas’ sudden attack. She’d been far too on edge, suspicious of every odd noise and movement on the farm. 

Avehi’s arrival was a relief in more than one way. Not only did it bring her precious information on what was going on after that horrible event, but it gave her a much needed rest from her exhausting vigil. With the Ebon Knight and her drake guarding the farm, Sinafay was able to get a bath and some much needed sleep. She wasn’t certain how many hours she’d been out for, but she’d woken up on time to see the touching display between her mate and their daughter.

“You’re going to spoil her, aren’t you?” She teased, with only a light Draenei accent in her Orcish now. She kept her voice low, as to not wake the sleeping infant.

Tail swaying, she walked over and wrapped her arms around Grakkar’s torso from behind, pressing her naked chest to his back as she hugged him tightly.

“Fatherhood suits you well,” she purred.

“Only paired with your motherhood.” Grakkar replied, hands closing over his mate’s.

He exhaled a sigh; gazing down at his daughter, feeling his wife’s warm embrace… this was perfect. A paradise he never knew he wanted. A dream from which he never wanted to wake.

“... help us…”

The moment passed, spoiled by yet another voice calling from the back of his mind. The messages were usually similar. “Help up, save us…” most disconcerting. He wished he knew where they were coming from. Rather… knew for sure. He parted Sinafay’s hands from around his waist to turn in her embrace.

“Come, speak with me.” he bid her, before passing her by on his way out of the room.

Sinafay tilted her head curiously. Speaking hadn’t exactly been what she’d been looking for, but at this point, any alone time with Grakkar was a good time. It certainly beat her standing guard over the farm alone. She -did- often wonder what was on his mind since his return to the living. He didn’t enjoy speaking of what he saw, the memories disturbing, so she didn’t like to push. Perhaps he was ready to speak on it now?

She followed him out of Neelah’s room and into their own. The bed was simple, but large and sturdy, covered in pelts from the various creatures Grakkar had managed to hunt down and bring home. The Draenei sat on the bed, tail curling around her form as she took Grakkar’s hands in hers.

“What’s on your mind, My Love?”

Grakkar was silent for a moment, simply holding Sinafay’s hands as he stood before her. Thumbs traced over the backs, then along the sides of her thumbs. He stared off at her chest-- not so much ‘at’ as ‘through’, contemplatively. Slowly, he organized his thoughts, piece by piece, before his gaze met his Mate’s. A natural smile formed over his lips; a reflex, feeling the warmth of her golden globes shining into his. He couldn’t help it, even in spite of the heavy topic weighing on his mind.

“I, uh…” he began, already seeming to lose his focus in her shimmering gaze. “I… think often about our village’s shaman, back on Draenor. Otrok.”

He cleared his throat, before sitting down beside Sinafay on their bed. It creaked, as it always seemed to when they both occupied it. He’d have to reinforce it again, for the second time this season. But that could wait. One hand kept hold of hers, the other resting in his lap as he continued.

“Otrok was a pup, when the Ancestors called on him. We used to tease him for it-- the youngest shaman we ever knew.” the Orc let out a jovial huff at the memory. “His mentor and predecessor, Meshi, she’d whack us on the knuckles or zap us with lightning when we did. Defensive of little pup Otrok, that one. She’d tell us that it was nothing we should tease him for. That ‘the Ancestor’s call can come at any time. At any age.’ And we’d, of course, nod along as we took the lecture.”

Gently, he gave Sinafay’s hand a squeeze.

“... I think they call to me, now.”

“Calling -how-?” Sinafay couldn’t help but ask, tilting her head in confusion.

She didn’t understand at all how shamanism worked, had never bothered to look into it. She’d been averse to the very idea of it due to her alternate self being so immersed. Even now, the thought of Grakkar showing interest in it irked her. Leftover jealousy…

At least -she- wasn’t alive anymore.

For now, she pushed those negative feelings back. Even if her mate became interested in that path, she had nothing but support for him. Especially this late in his lifetime, she wanted whatever would be soothing to his soul. On that note, there was a more pressing question.

“What are you supposed to do when they call on you?”

"Answer."

A logical enough answer, predictable as it was. Grakkar nodded slowly, searching Sinafay's face for… anything. A reaction. A showing of how she felt about the revelation. She understood, right?

She somehow managed not to twitch...

"The Ancestors, they… they mean much to my kind. You know this, I know, but…" he sighed, brow furrowing. "It is an honor, but also a responsibility. They call with a purpose, and to ignore them is to dishonor them. Sina… I need to answer. I need to learn how. And for that, I need to seek out a shaman." 

Sinafay frowned heavily, baring her fangs in displeasure as she turned her head to the side, avoiding eye contact. There was no question. She hated the thought, no matter how supportive she was trying to be.

“We fought so hard to finally be together,” she couldn’t help but voice, “After everything that happened a few weeks ago, you cannot be serious about leaving. There must be some other way…”

She took his hand and brought it to her face, pressing her lips to his finger tips.

“How about you ask a shaman to come teach you here. Neelah needs you,” she took a moment to suckle on his index finger a bit more before adding in a sensual tone, “-I- need you.”

Grakkar’s hand moved to cup Sinafay’s face, fingertips idly massaging the back of her head as his thumb brushed along her cheek. He smiled, unable to help but chuckle at his mate’s… forwardness. It was endearing-- and she had a point. They’d worked so hard to be together. Suffered through all manner of pain and anguish. He didn’t want to leave. But he didn’t want to ignore the call, either. He exhaled a sigh.’

“I have to find one, first. One who would travel out here… and wouldn’t get upset at seeing how we live.” he explained, brow furrowing a bit. “That will be a challenge. And either way, I’d still have to leave.”

The Draenei’s frown deepened. She’d never been good at hiding her emotions. Her tail had gone from swaying to twitching, arms crossing over her chest as she worried her bottom lip. She was upset. Angry. Not with her mate, specifically, but at the situation, as a whole. She closed her eyes and pressed her cheek deeper into his palm.

She hated this. But she knew better than to try and stop him. Orcs were stubborn creatures.

“Not right away. I need a bit of time, my Love. Time with you, before you go on your journey,” she still couldn’t bring herself to look at him as her eyes fluttered open once more, “And you visit weekly when you -do- go.”

“Hopefully more, if I can manage it.” he replied. “I don’t want to be too far from you and Neelah. Whatever the Ancestors have in store for me… it will include us all. I only need to leave to find out what that is, first.”

He tilted Sinafay’s head up, leveling his gaze with hers. Stern as his expression was, his eyes conveyed a deep affection for his mate, and a genuine concern for her well-being. He’d given this a lot of thought already.

“You and Neelah are everything to me. You know that, right?” he smiled, weakly. “The Ancestors must know it, too. This calling… whatever it is, it’s as much for you and her as it is for me.”

She gave a nod, meeting his gaze now, but couldn’t quite shake her anxiety over the situation. They’d barely begun to recover from Argonas’ attack, and now this… Leaning forward, she gently pressed her crest against his forehead.

“What… what happened?”

“Naga took you.” he replied, plainly and honestly. “Just before the seas opened up, and swallowed the Alliance and Horde fleets. Vindicator Argonas and Vindicator Avehi were sent down, and rescued you.”

Khanaros reached to take the vessel from Mierne when she had finished it, instead replacing it with a nutrient loaf - a small brown bread-like substance, unwrapped and ready for Mierne to eat at her own pace. It smelled… bland. Far less appealing than the liquid, but every bit as fortifying. 

“You are safe now… recovering well, physically,” he reported, smile clearly forced. “But… there can be no telling yet the extent of the psychological damage done to you. The Naga used some void creature known as a zoatroid to wrack your mind and alter your thoughts and behaviors. They… enslaved you, Mierne.”

The words almost seemed to hurt him as he spoke them, a hand reaching out to rest atop Mierne’s leg. Worry crossed his wrinkled face; worry and fear. He was eternally grateful Mierne was safe… but he knew this was only the beginning of her recovery.

Mierne nibbled on the bread given to her as she listened intently to Khanaros’ words. She frowned as she came to realize that not everything she’d dreamed about had been fabrication. She swallowed down a bite.

“I… vaguely remember some of it…” she admitted, “I thought it was a nightmare.”

She sighed, shoulders slumping. The thought of things she’d might have done under zoatroid control made her lose her appetite. She put the rest of the loaf down on the side table, before bringing a hand to her head. Trying to recollect things gave her a migraine. 

“Let us… let us speak of other things,” she requested, her eyes meeting his golden gaze once more, “I wasn’t aware that you had Lightforged. When did this happen?”

“--Hm? Ah… it was after our discussion at the Darkshore,” he replied, tone hiding well his concerns now - for her sake, he felt it best. “You don’t recall? It is fine if you do not… after all you have endured, it is easily excusable.”

Khanaros smiled, and gave Mierne’s leg another supportive, comforting squeeze. There was no question this was difficult for him. To see his beloved Mierne so scattered? To hear that she didn’t remember things? But for a hard as it was for him, he couldn’t begin to comprehend how hard it must’ve been for her. He did his best to keep that in mind.

“What do you recall? From before Nazjatar?” he asked. “We can start there, and I will do my best to fill in the rest. And separate truth from fiction. Alright?”

“Honestly? I am uncertain. I remember coming to visit you, as usual, after the Legion was defeated. I remember Argonas moving to the isle… Avehi coming to visit me… I -do- remember being in Darkshore, but as for why…”

She shook her head, “Naga and murloc populations increased on the isle… Are we at War again? Or was that a nightmare? And Teldrassil burning?”

She shrugged, but then could help but chuckle, “Fairly certain you and I getting engaged did not actually happen.” She laughed, “I mean… can you imagine?! That would be crazy!”

“Sadly, the war-related memories are all true. We--”

It struck him like a blade, as the words crossed Mierne’s lips. The laugh didn’t help, either. He suspected a while back she wasn’t fully on board with the engagement, but those concerns were softened when they made plans further to move in together. But… that, too, was probably not something she was interested in. Something else ‘crazy’, like getting engaged. His shoulders sank, though his smile remained - forced, of course.

“Heh, quite crazy!” he nodded along. “We haven’t made such plans, no.”

The lie tasted bitter in Khanaros’ mouth, however. Would it be better to tell her the truth? No, it was better for her to get her bearings, and recall her life as she wished it to be. Normal for Mierne didn’t include forecasting their nuptials, it seemed.

Mierne was visibly relieved. It wasn’t that she didn’t  have feelings towards her dearest and oldest friend. But marriage? Their lives were much too incompatible for things to go any further than their usual casual intimate encounters.

“--The war, though… it rages. Teldrassil did, in fact, burn by the Warchief’s order.” he frowned, now that the topic changed appropriately to do so. “This is why we went to Darkshore.”

It began to make sense to Mierne; why she had been in Darkshore. The enemy had been too close for comfort. She had to do what she could to protect the Exodar and the Isles!

“That explains the Lightforging, then,” she brought a hand up, fingers brushing his beard as she admired his changed features. “You look good. Really good,” she couldn’t help but smile, “This path suits you.”

The affections, of course, made Khanaros happy. But undertones behind it did little to stave off the great sense of loss he was feeling. This was more than just a setback in her memory… it was a setback in their relationship, as well. It hurt him deeply, in a way he couldn’t express.

He couldn’t let that show, of course. Instead, he plastered on a smiling expression, and nodded. 

“I’m pleased you still think so. We discussed it, before I underwent the trials. I worried you would not find me nearly as pleasing to the eye, so grossly incandescent.”

He let out a chuckle - a convincing one, considering. 

“But… yes, with the war continuing on as it has been, I felt Lightforging would be an appropriate means of coming out of retirement.”

“Indeed!” She chuckled, finally removing her hand to reach for the food she hadn’t yet finished. 

She was already looking stronger; her eyes more luminous and colour returning to her cheeks. Markings were left along the side of her face where the zoatroid had clung and been ripped off. The wounds would most likely leave scars, but, for now, Mierne seemed oblivious to them. Just as well. It was doubtful she would care. The hermit had never been one to fuss over her appearance. 

“And here I am keeping you from your duties… I hope I didn’t take too much of your time off the field.”

"Not at all. I am mostly a strategist these days, helping direct forces rather than fight on the front, directly." 

He shook his head, giving Mierne's leg one final squeeze before pulling his hand back. He stood.

"I would not burden you with details." He left it at that, planting a light kiss on her scarred cheek. "For now, rest. Recover. I will come by again later to see how you are feeling, yes?"

It grew too much for him - not just seeing her like this, but learning how much of her memory she had lost. Khanaros worried deeply for Mierne, of course. But he also worried about what this manner of regression could mean for their relationship. Suddenly, they weren’t engaged anymore. Suddenly, they weren’t living together anymore!