#thefugitivemango

Her words were met with silence. But she wasn’t left in silence for long, however. Light flooded the cell as a portal opened in the ceiling. It revealed metal bars crossed in a hexagonal lattice pattern. Beyond them, the Magister could be seen sitting at a desk in an elegant Quel’dorei decorated office. The alignment of the portals were clearly skewed; while the portal had opened above Kai’eka’s cell, the Magister sat in a chair looking straight ahead into the cell from his side.

“You sound surprised.” he stated, clearly having heard her commentary. “We have eyes everywhere, you know. We go to great lengths to track the whereabouts of enemies of our Kingdom, Kai’eka. And you’ve proven to be one time and time again.”

Bey’ron glanced up from the desk, then back down. He scribbled notes on parchment, organizing each into meticulous stacks. It was too far away to tell whether or not the paperwork concerned Kai’eka, or if he was simply multitasking his interrogation with something else.

“Not bothering to change your name when you were reborn was a foolish choice. Stomping through the Thalassian Pass, even more so.” he scoffed. “Did you really expect to be greeted cordially?”

She couldn’t help but roll her eyes, already exasperated by the conversation.

“Trying to make It sound like security's always been tight. You have any idea how fucking easy it was to infiltrate the Phoenix Guard?”

“Mm, must have been quite easy, if you somehow managed to do it.” Bey’ron quipped back. “It wasn’t always so tight, no. But we’ve learned from the mistakes of the past. It’s easier to see threats coming when we know what to look for.”

Another parchment meticulously signed and sorted amongst the piles of papers on his desk. He set his quill down, looking at Kai’eka directly as he clasped his hands. He smirked.

“Case in point; here you are.”

He stood from the desk, and circled around in front of it. As he did, an Imp appeared through a portal and dropped into his now-empty chair, taking over the paperwork while Bey’ron focused fully on his new detainee.

“Now, as we discussed before, you’ll answer some questions for me, and I’ll consider doing the same if I like what I hear.” he restated his offer from before. “Let’s start with an easy one, shall we? One even a brute like you should know– what is your leader, Xal’atath, planning?”

Of all the questions she had been expecting, that hadn’t even crossed her mind. She hadn’t touched anything in regards to the cult since Ny'alotha. Confusion was evident on her features.

“What the fuck does that crazy bitch have to do with anything?” She replied, “Haven't touched void shit since I died.”

The Imp scribbled down some notes as she spoke, and stopped once she did. It was apparent the little demon was transcribing her answers. Bey’ron leaned against the desk, and crossed his arms. 

“Where are the rest of your traitorous cohorts? Nepen’thea Dusksinger, Brent Sunborn, Cebina Ruavin?”

The Ebon Knight looked up at the Magister, eyebrow raised. For someone who claimed to have eyes everywhere, he certainly didn't seem to know anything.

“Thea is dead. Backstabbed back when we were working in Nazjatar. Alt was killed not long after that. Brent left the cult around the same time as me. He managed to put that shit behind him and is settling down now. Cebina is still out there. Approached me a while back and asked me to be part of some dumb plan. Told her to get lost. Haven't seen her since. No idea where Karas ended up. Haven't seen him since the Fourth War.”

“Ah yes, Alteris… your brother. I had nearly forgotten about him.” Bey’ron nodded slowly. “But Cebina did approach you, yes? Why did you decline her invitation?”

Again, the Imp scribbled down more notes, recording everything Kai’eka said. Aside from the scritching of his quill against the parchment and the gentle humming of the portal, everything else was quiet. The Magister looked to the Death Knight, expectantly.

“Do you expect me to believe you left behind everything to which you had devoted your entire mortal life? Aside from your friend Sunborn– allegedly– you’d be the only one to ever do so. Quite… anomalous.”

“Because it was all a fucking lie!”

Kai’eka's eyes flared in anger, her face twisted in a scowl. Hands balled into fists, straining the rope.

“I gave EVERYTHING to the Old Gods! Devoted my whole damn life! Sacrificed everything I had to ensure the cult would survive! Fuck, I even died for them! And guess what I got for it? Not a damned thing! Everything I was promised, everything I worked for… everything I was taught from the moment I knew how to walk? All lies!”

She growled.

“So no! Not interested. Told her to fuck off and get out of my sight!”

The Magister couldn’t help but grin at her outburst. Her frustration and anger, the first and only true emotion she’d exhibited besides the baseline irritation of being captured. He chuckled, laughing deeply at her predicament. At her comeuppance. It felt harsher against the background of silence. Even the Imp’s writing had concluded, the demon standing by waiting while his master enjoyed Kai’eka’s admission.

“By the Sunwell itself, so you did learn your lesson! It only took dying for your hollow cause, but you finally caught on!” he laughed raucously. “I do so love seeing traitors get what they deserve!”

Kai'eka sneered at him, wanting nothing more than to punch that dumb grin off of his face and shove those fancy quills up his ass. 

“Whatever. We both know where this is going. Just get the fucking execution over with. I'm done talking.”

“Mm, just as well. I’ve had enough listening to your lies, in turn. We’ll set to executing you tomorrow, perhaps. You… and your son.”

He pushed himself from the desk nonchalantly, and began walking around to the other side. The Imp quickly scurried out from the chair, and took his place off to the side on the desk. Bey’ron examined the stack of parchments, appraisingly. 

“He’s clearly in league with you, as well. My agents observed him interacting with your messenger. And we apprehended him at Dawnstar Spire awaiting your meeting, just before we apprehended you.” he explained, sorting the logs his Imp had taken. “Two traitors, publicly executed on the same day. Mother and son, too! Certainly should draw a big crowd, don’t you think?”

That certainly got her attention. She’d set to staring at the wall in front of her, having simply accepted her fate. When he mentioned her son, however… Her eyes widened and dread overtook her features and ears pinned back as he spoke.

“He isn’t part of this! Never has been! Let him go!”

“Tch, more lies? Come, now. I know all about the shadow mark you left on him. You’ve come back to reclaim him, and bring him into your Void-worshipping fold. I’m not a fool, Kai’eka.” Bey’ron scoffed, shaking his head dismissively. “Your traitorous lineage will end with him. If you’d like, we can have your guillotine facing his gallows so you can watch him hang before we behead you.”

He finished stacking the parchments, and looked back up at Kai’eka with a grin. He waved his hand, and the portal slowly began to close.

“Tomorrow, most likely. I’m tired this evening, and still have to finish interrogating Kynlea before I can retire. Enjoy your last night, Miss Sunwhisper.”

“No no NO! I'm telling you the truth! The only reason he has that mark is because I made a stupid decision when I was younger! I left him so that no one could trace him back to me! Because I didn't want the cult to find him! I didn't want that life for him!” 

She pushed herself off the wall, panic set in her features as she called out at the closing portal, “When I found out Astaloren was dead, I wanted to make sure he was safe! I swear! I just want him to be safe!”

She struggled with the bonds now, desperate to get free somehow. She felt tears sting her eyes. Alteris had been right. She should have stayed away.

“This is MY fault! It was my mistake! Kynlea shouldn't pay for it!” Her voice broke in her distress, “Magister, PLEASE!”

The portal held open slightly at the last second, the rift only about a foot across. Slowly, it crept open once more to reveal the Magister again, arms crossed as he peered at Kai’eka. His smirk was gone, brow deeply furrowed, ears perked high. His felfire eyes were piercing, narrowed on the Death Knight’s tear-touched face.

“That almost sounded sincere, Miss Sunwhisper.” he spoke, tone dripping with accusation. “Do you know how Astaloren managed to spare you son a terrible fate of being consumed by the Void thanks to your carelessness?”

He gave no time to answer, only to contemplate the question, before his gloved hand pointed to himself. 

“Your son lives because I deem it so. He sleeps peacefully because I allow it. He breathes another breath because of my mercy.” he spelled out in no uncertain terms. “Suppose I believe you. That you’ve shed your Cultist past, and your reasons for returning to my kingdom are truly to reunite with the son you abandoned– regardless, you’d still have much for which you must atone. If you’ve truly learned that harsh lesson, and finally see the empty promises the Shadows offer… atonement would be something I would expect you’d seek, given the atrocities you committed in the name of your false and abhorrent Gods.”

He clasped his hands behind his back.

“Do you? Do you seek atonement?” he asked, plainly. “Because such a penance is the only way I’d ever let a monster like you see your son again.”

It was strange. Even though she didn't need to breathe, Kai’eka’s chest still rose and fell in her distress as she listened to every word. Her answer was immediate. 

“I… I just want him safe from the void. Safe from the shadows. If you can guarantee that, then… I'll atone… whatever it takes. You can get someone to dig through my head if you don't believe me.”

“Hmph. You know as well as I do that there's no guaranteed way to protect yourself from the shadows.” the Magister scoffed. “However… I'm exceptionally capable. The fact Kynlea is still free of the Void's influence should be evidence enough of that.”

He sighed, and shook his head. He shifted his hands from clasped behind him to folded in front of him. His stern expression softened, if only a bit.

“That won't be necessary. You have, against all odds, convinced me of the authenticity of your intentions.” Bey'ron stated. “And with that, not only do I feel merciful enough not to execute you, but furthermore to arrange for you to meet the son you abandoned over two hundred years ago.”

A smirk returned to his face.

“But make no mistake, Kai’eka Sunwhisper, you will atone. In exchange for keeping Kynlea alive, both thus far and from here on out… you work for me, now. Is that absolutely clear?”

Her ears remained lowered, flickering as she listened attentively. She'd managed to calm herself somewhat. It was a conflicting clash of emotions. Despite the hate she'd built up against this man in front of her in such a short period of time, he was also the only reason Kynlea was alive.

To say she was surprised he was sparing her life was an understatement. He was going to let her live AND grant her request to see Kynlea? It certainly felt too good to be true. What was in it for him, other than yet another hired muscle? 

She nodded, agreeing to the terms. She could figure it out later. Right now, she was in no position to argue. 

“Understood,” she replied.

“Good. We’ll start by hunting down your former comrade, Miss Ruavin. You clearly hold no stock in her ambitions, so instead you’ll help me break them.” Bey’ron instructed, straightening his robes. “But first… I told you I’d consider answering some of your questions if I liked what I heard. And since we’ve come to this agreement, suffice it to say that I do. So, do you have anything you’d like to ask me?”

“Why do you care that I atone?” She asked plainly, “Magisters aren't known for their mercy.”

Kai’eka wasn't always the sharpest, but she'd lived and worked in Quel'Thalas a very long time before her exile. Bey’ron would certainly get high praise and influence for capturing and executing a traitor. She couldn’t imagine anyone being happy with his decision to let her live. From what she experienced at the Pass, he wasn’t short on muscle, either.

“Mm, no… I suppose we aren't, are we?” Bey’ron chuckled, amused at how enduring the Magistry's reputation for ruthlessness was. “If you don't atone, the alternative is death. I think that would be a waste, don't you? You're rather strong, and well experienced. Not too bright, but so long as you're obedient, that's hardly an issue. And seeing as you literally died for your devotion, misplaced as it may have been, that shows you possess loyalty. In short… you'd make a much better asset than a corpse.”

He shrugged, crossing his arms.

“Besides, if you don't atone, I'd have to kill your son, too. That would also be a waste, I think.” the Magister sighed. “You two possess a lot of the same qualities that make you such promising assets.”

Her ears flickered in annoyance. 

“Noted,” she replied, “What about the mark? Are you able to remove it? Kynlea goes free now, yeah?”

“Unfortunately, no. It is dormant, however. Isolated from detection by the Void Lords or their agents.” the Magister explained. “But otherwise, yes. I’ll have him released from custody, and bring him here in an hour or two for the heartfelt reunion you’ve been seeking with him.”

He stepped back, and once again bid the portal to close. It shrank down quickly, the connection between the cell and wherever the Magister was fading quickly. His voice echoed before the portal vanished;

“Welcome back to Quel’Thalas, Kai’eka Sunwhisper.”

“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!