A High Tide and a Low Flame
It’s a ponderous morning, one of those mornings where you wake up and everything around you requires at least fifteen seconds of deep thought. Alathreal lays in her bed awake before Catari as usual. Early to rise, early to train, today however it seems training is the last thing Alathreal could do with her brain so wracked with her memories.
It hadn’t been a good night, she’d had another nightmare and they’ve steadily been getting worse, Nightmares of that ship and that man and what he did to her. She idly strokes her fingers over the slave brand on her neck and frowns. Looking to her side at Catari sound asleep next to her, her chest rising and falling slowly and her white blonde hair curled around her face. Alathreal turns and looks back at the ceiling.
“It’s all behind you now, you have a new life it’s time to forget and keep moving.” She whispers to herself. That has always decided her, she hates dwelling on the past but her mind would not let this go. It’s as if something has re-awakened this memory just to taunt her.
Alathreal slips out of bed careful not to wake Catari, walking to her herb pouch and grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl on the table. She takes a bite out the apple and selects a few leaves of Gold clover putting it into a cup of water and lighting a fire in their fireplace.
Placing the cup on the suspended metal platform over the fire and letting it boil while she sat, cross legged on the floor and watches the flames. Thinking again, him again, his rough painful touch and his face like that of one of those wretched but without the desperation and without the withered rot.
Alathreal shakes her head, finishes her apple and takes the cup off the fire while standing up. Taking a few sips of tea then putting the cup to the side to let it cool. She quickly puts on her usual pair of plain grey linen trousers and loose blouse with her leather boots. Walking outside with tea in hand she enters Eversong planning to walk her usual route to the seaside. She lives a good life now, a beautiful home with someone she loves more than anything. This life has no place for revenge; she nods pouring her tea into a water skin and taking off at a brisk jog. Alathreal loves the forest, trees and beauty all around her, Eversong was one of the only places that would calm her thoughts.
Her mind now finally at ease she stops and sits on the side of the pathway cross legged in the grass. Taking another sip of her tea cool enough to drink steadily now. Looking around at the golden leaves of the tree’s and green grass. She sighs and leans back running a
ponderous hand over her stomach feeling the hard muscle that cropped up when she began her training as a Blood Knight. He’d caught her when she was but a mere apprentice, if he tried to take her now… no she shouldn’t be thinking that, no place in her new life for it.
Getting up and walking the rest of the way to the sea side, she knew of a small secluded spot that required a good amount
of effort to reach. This usually dissuades most Sin’dorei from going to it but Alathreal has developed a fondness for physical exercise. Panting after negotiating the steep hill and rocky climb to reach the cliff overlooking the sea but she freezes as soon as she looks out to the horizon, a large galleon with dark purple sails and an eye with a white teardrop painted across them, she knew that ship.
Alathreal’s chest tightens and her breathing becomes shallow, her eyes going blank as she grasps her stomach and turn to the side heaving up her breakfast apple, coughing and leaning with one hand on her knee she looks back. Yes, that is him, or at least one of his
ships. She knew nothing of what he has done since she escaped him but his fleet may have grown. Turning she ran, as fast as she can down the rocky hill scraping her legs and hands as she barrels her way down the hill towards Fairbreeze, running along the path as panic and shock wrack her body with adrenaline and paranoia.
Alathreal reaches Fairbreeze and skids to a halt in front of the entrance to her home. She can’t bash into her home like this, she would only scare Catari there was no need to upset her. She paces back and forth slowing her breathing consciously while wringing her hands in front of her. What was she going to do? Attack the ship? Report them to the Blood Knights? If she did they would likely be arrested and she would see little more of them. No, this is deeply personal she cannot let it go this is her chance to sate her mind and remove those nightmares once and for all. With a calm face she slowly walks into her home, Catari is awake and half-dressed stumbling
around as she always does when she woke up. Alathreal moves up behind her and wraps her arms around Catari.
Catari jumps slightly and looks back.
“Mornin’ I’m gunna be late” she said in a mumbled half-awake tone placing one hand over Alathreal’s.
“I know come on I’ll help you into your armour.”
After a quick bath Alathreal helps Catari clamp tie and clip all her armour down, gave her one last hug and a kiss good-bye and watches her leave. Dropping her happy demeanour she turns to her own armour, the black and red of the Blood Knights that she wore proudly. Her large shield and the axe she recently started using leaning on the wall behind them. She nods and sits down at the table taking another apple and slowly eating while waiting. What she was waiting for she didn’t know but she spent her entire day in and around Fairbreeze thinking and waiting.
Soon it was nightfall and she knew what she has to do. Alathreal clamps on her own heavy armour and picks up her shield, axe and a bag of supplies she packed earlier. Walking out of her home with a determined stride up the pathway and to the cliff where down at the shore below the boat is docked, a small glow of a camp fire at the head of it. Alathreal made her way down slowly in the darkness her elven eyes quickly adjusting to the dark to help her make her way down. Once on the sand below she crouches behind a rock and eyes the small camp. Two humans and a goblin, they wear a tabard now? Seems she is right in thinking his fleet had grown. They all seem
to be in varying states of inebriation a strong smell of rum floating down the night winds to her nose now and then.
Alathreal stood up wanting to be as quiet as possible she slowly steps toward them keeping to the dark. It seems they are too drunk to notice the soft clatter of her armour. Once close enough she pulls her axe from the loop in her belt and flings it at the first human. The blade spins then hacks into the front of his head with a satisfying crunch. The other two not fully registering what has happened turn groggy eyes to the human as he leans forward and fell face first into their camp fire. Alathreal has already run forward slamming the rim of her shield down in a wide arc hitting the goblin over the head a spray of dark blood coming from his nose as he squeaks softly and falls back twitching. She spins and throws a bolt of reddish light energy at the human, a blazing copy of her shield spinning toward him. The bolt hit him square in his mouth, opened to yell for help, cutting him off sharply as it severs his head in two the sections sliding apart as he collapses in a heap on the floor.
Alathreal, her eyes void of emotion face blank and stride determined, walks up the gang plank onto the deck, lowering herself slightly as she catches sight of the patrol on the boat. The human is fast asleep atop a crate on the deck snoring audibly. Alathreal laid a heavy punch to the side of his face toppling him off his crate with a grunt, as soon as he hit the deck she brings her axe down into his chest cracking him open with a spray of blood covering her face and upper body, turning to inspect her surroundings afterwards
Several crates are scattered around the deck, a grate in the middle were more crates are kept underneath. The wheel on a raised section at the bow and a tall mast with the purple sails tied up for the night. Cannons line the sides of the boat with barrels of gun powder and large iron cannon balls tied down next to them. Alathreal strides over to a cannon and swiftly cuts its bonds loose, slowly wheeling it across the deck and in front of the cabin door leading to the crew quarters, kicking one wheel loose causing the cannon to fall onto the deck heavily, it won’t be moving easily any time soon.
Turning toward the door of the captain’s cabin Alathreal’s heart starts to pound and her ears begin to ring. The memories of that captain… she cut them off immediately and fills her mind with rage. Taking several fast steps to the cabin she kicks the door open and is met with the sight of a large black tauren. Dressed in a white swashbuckler’s shirt and black trousers a purple sash where his belt should be. He seems to have risen in a rush at the sound of the cannon, standing there eyeing Alathreal’s bloodied visage. It’s not him… it’s not the captain, that bastard elf. It’s the wrong ship…
The captain immediately rips a huge tauren sized rapier from his wall and bellows
“Men of the Tear of Woe, intruders, intruders on the ship!” Alathreal flinches, the name of the ship she was hoping for came to her mind, The Tear of Pain, dredging up more rage. With a feral scream she charges at the tauren who takes a heavy swing at her head, ducking under it and bringing her axe up in a slashing motion. The massive bull steps back avoiding the blow barley and parries Alathreal’s next swing with his sword. Spinning on her heel and feigning a slash with her axe that distracts the captain’s sword
she brings the spiked head of her shield slicing into his side. The captain grunts grabbing at his bleeding flank and flings the sword at Alathreal.Keeping her body at an angle the blade scrapes along her abdomen glancing off the heavy plate.
Barrelling back into his cabin the tauren picks up a musket and swings aiming it at Alathreals face. She freezes staring at the barrel, the sounds of the crew men banging on the door of the cabin and the slight scraping as the cannon barring their way moves inches at a time.
“You will regret coming here… should have stayed in your fancy grotto sipping your honeyed tea and servicing your noble wench.”
Said the bull as a wide manic grin spreads over his snout glaring grins a wide manic gripickedings afterwardsor vengance ...coming back...to the sand. Her voice echoing around the cavern al at Alathreal confident he has won. Alathreal’s mind races
as she tries to think of a way out of this, the bulls already on edge one false move could earn her a hole in her head and an unmarked grave. She slowly lowers her hands, still gripping her weapons, to her sides causing the tauren to smile wider.
“There’s a good lass, smart to know when your beat. Drop the axe… and the shield, maybe we can negotiate compensation for your rude intrusion.” Said in a mocking fashion while gesturing with his hand for Alathreal’s weapons, Alathreal however was hardly compliant. Closing her eyes for a second and concentrating as she had been taught, a light reddish glow erupts around her skin and she charges again taking a heavy foot forward and raising her axe over her head. The taurens eyes go wide and he fires…
Alathreal’s training taught her to always keep her body at an angle, Sin’dorei are hardly the biggest or strongest of the races and have to be smart to take a blow. The bullet flew directly at her face hitting her cheek but, the reddish glow was a shield of light she had summoned around herself, the bullet glances off leaving a long deep cut from the edge of her mouth down to her jawline but the brunt of the blow has been avoided. Screaming like a demented beast Alathreal hacks her axe into the taurens shoulder, severing the tendons and cracking the bone. Unable to wrench it back out she brings the edge of her shield directly into his face, a grunt issuing
from him as he stumbles backwards. Alathreal leaps at him laying a heavy punch to his face and a kick to his kneecap toppling the bull to the ground. She heaves several deep breaths as the tauren kneels and bleeds before violently slamming a knee into his face and climbing atop him as he falls, kneeling on his chest she proceeds to pummel his face with gauntleted fists. Slamming his jaw, eye
socket, nose and every other part she can reach beating the bone until it crunches beneath her fists shouting her anger at the bull. Finally wrenching her axe from his shoulder and using it to cleave his forehead in half with a heavy blow.
Alathreal sits there for what felt like an age, her body soaked in his blood and his body twitching erratically beneath her before it went still. A loud bang as the crew struggles with the door awakens her from her paralysis. Alathreal stands quickly and charges out the cabin. The blocked door is already slightly ajar hands sticking through it and loud shouts of frustration from the crew bottle necked in the hall way behind the door. Alathreal went over to the dead crew member from earlier taking his dagger from
his belt and stepping to the arms sticking out from the opening of the door. She watches them for a moment before using the dagger to nail a man’s arm to the door frame, a loud scream coming from behind the door, unable to rip his arm from the frame as he struggles.
Alathreal steps over to the barrels she cut loose earlier and rolls several over to the crew door knocking the lid open and spreading the powder over the deck and around the other barrels leaving a trial from the door way to the gang plank. Taking a lantern from its hook on the deck and standing at the head of the gang plank she drops it on the trail and quickly ran down the gang plank to the campfire and the corpses running to make as much distance as possible between her and the boat.
Alathreal turned at the loud boom of the explosion, the boat set ablaze and the screams of the crew as some are blown away and others are burnt alive. The smell of fire and death hitting her as the wind, blown from the blast, reaches her. She watches, listens to the screaming and cracking of the wood as the ship burns and the world came crashing down.
What had happened to her, the memories of the pain and helplessness. Alathreal bends over cradling her stomach and falls to her knees on the beach sand looking up at the fire, tears running down her cheeks and yells. She howls in pain, till her throat is raw and her ears rang, till her head pounds and her heart aches, Screaming her frustration at the world and her past, the tears running long rivulets through the blood on her face and dripping into the sand, her voice echoing around the cavern along with the final muffled screams and moans from the burning ship like a wraith to a chorus of death.
The memories will always be there, he is still alive and he is coming back… it’s not over it’s never been over and never will be till he is gone… Alathreal will have to make space in her life for vengeance after all.
((Hope you enjoyed it, I wrote this for fun while my WoW refused to let me stay on for longer than 5 minutes without
lagging me out. If there is any spelling mistakes or problems let me know.))
