Re-acquisition
A place of sand and blistering winds. Kale knew it well. He held onto that singular grain of sand, allowing it to pull him towards its birth place; towards a pock marked landscape dominated by a towering sword. There. He thought, the landscape erupting all around him in his minds eye, a land of dust and wind and stillness. He saw it all through a violet haze that blurred around the edges, and in the center of his vision, a single figure, huddled in a crouch, staring up at that sword. He watched it for a time, his mind whirring with memory. Hearing the boy speak against his father in the throne room. Listening to him plead to help him find the Harmonic Mallet. Hearing his father weep over his broken body. Listening to him at Garroshs trial. All these memories whirred in his mind, culminating with the smashing of fist against a beautiful face he held dear. That was one of the last times he had seriously spoken to Anduin Wrynn. He and the king had been estranged of late; Kale choosing the path of a dragon, and Anduin the path of a King. But that King lay before him, broken and crumbling, his once golden hair shorn and matted, his face covered in rashes, in scars, in dirt and grime. His eyes hollow. Kale watched for a moment longer, before letting that singular grain of sand free. He snapped back into place; a rubber strap slamming back after eons of tension. He blinked, listening to the sounds of Wrathion in the kitchen, and as he got his bearings, stumbled off the bed. “I’ve found him!” Kale announced, leaning against the door frame. Wrathion whirled, curled dark hair billowing behind him, beautiful face lit by a several candles and a hanging lantern. “Where is he?” He asked, approaching. Kale paused, mouth open, before replying. “Silithus. We have to act fast.” Kale swallowed. “I know of someone who has his exact location at all times.” He narrowed his eyes, cupping Wrathion’s cheek as the man approached him, looking up with concern. “Someone who has known his location for years and hasn’t told his loved ones.” Wrathion mirrored his expression. Distaste laced his features. “Who?” “Lord Admiral Proudmoore.” It took the acquisition of a wanted criminal to get Jaina to talk; though, Kale realized, that was only a plus. She was all too happy to see Zeke Firebrand brought to justice, and the showcase of Kale’s power was only a bonus. She never explained why she had chosen to not tell his family his wheareabouts, and Kale didn’t care. Only that his side of the bargain he had struck with Marcus Latrell was done. “I will not go back on my word, Kale.” Jaina called after him as he left the keep. “I promise you.” “Lord Admiral…” Kale spoke, voice soft, though resonating through the antechamber. “Thank you.”
