History Repeats Itself

It was a time of peace since the defeat of the Legion. Horde and Alliance forces set aside their personal hatreds to work together and vanquish the larger evil presence, and prevailed. For the first time since Taiream was revived, she had never seen such teamwork. Songs would be sang of this time, and stories would become legends. For the first time in years, peace fell upon Azeroth.

"Miss Sandoval, a message from the Banshee Queen herself, if I may." A tall guard tapped against the open door of Taiream's work quarters, holding a small letter in his hand. Taiream looked up from her work, pushing her goggles up to the top of her head. She gestured for the guard to continue.

"You are invited to attend a planned visit to Arathi Highlands where King Anduin Wrynn and Lady Sylvanas Windrunner have agreed for a small reunion between human and forsaken, to talk to family otherwise left behind or killed. We leave in two days, where we will travel through Silverpine and Hillsbrad to Arathi Highlands." The forsaken looked up from the paper for a brief moment. "There will be no weapons, no magic, and no hostility. We leave the same day by dusk. Will you join?

Taiream stood from her desk, her back bones cracking as she rose. "Mm, no thank you." Picking up the blueprints she was recently working on, she walked to the leftmost wall and pinned it. Realising the guard remained, she turned to him, "Anything else?"

Second Chance

 Celebration filled the halls of the Exodar upon Velen’s successful return from Argus. A small celebration was due, and all that could be spared with the emergency repairs still required on the ship. Everyone was busy; the engineers fixed up the broken pieces, tailors were working triple to make supplies for those affected by the war, the bakery spared food for anyone in need, and the anchorites had their hands full with broken bones and fel-scarred skin of the draenei – either coming back from war, or recovering from the direct attack on the Exodar.

One such patient hadn’t left the infirmary ever since the attack occurred, steadily sleeping for a few months. Korena has yet to wake up from her coma, and Kayaara has yet to move from her sister’s side.

Peace

Author: Janna

War was a complicated thing. Obviously, nobody wanted it to happen. But it undeniably benefited many people in many ways. There were those who benefited economically by way of their foresight and understanding of the markets, and not too seldom a total lack of conscience as they ruthlessly profited off of the suffering of others. Of course, it is easy to condemn a man who overcharges groceries while children are starving on his doorstep, but one ought never to forget their own role in creating this situation. Few were truly innocent. Few could honestly claim they weren't putting their own survival first, yes, even before a starving orphan. And the grocer, no matter he got rich on it, at least played his part in bringing food to the population.

War was business. For the grocer, for the blacksmith, for the landlady, the innkeeper, and the farmhand. Those who took it serious as an opportunity would come out on top when the decks were reshuffled after.

And then, there were the soldiers. A soldier is never a 'good guy'. Whether they are sent to kill men and women who were sent to kill them – all of whom just pawns to a higher power –, or whether it was demons that were to be slain for the promise of glory and, eventually, possibly, unbelievably, peace. Soldiers were grocers, blacksmiths and farmhands and while out there slaying demons, they were sorely missed at home where their children cried for another bowl of soup at night.

Morality had to be put on hold during a war, when there was no right thing to do. And that experience changed people. The baker who returns from the front will never look at his work in the same way. Every loaf he pulls out of the oven will carry the faces of those hungry children. And yet he knows he did what he had to.

War was a teacher. It taught a person more about themselves than they could hope to learn in their entire lives.

It's your second war that reveals most about who you are. And when the third comes around – if it comes around for you – there are no regrets left to dwell upon. You know now that all there is to fight for is survival, and all there is to live for is another day. You have lost your fear – not the fear of dying, only the insane could ever lose that – but the fear of disappointing. The fear of moral judgement.

And if you reached a fourth, you'd start to feel as though there were two versions of yourself, one in times of peace, and an entirely different person during wartime.

The Exodar Attack

Tensions were high in the Exodar ever since Kayaara set sail with the Echoes. It was obvious to anyone that Velen was under much stress, even if he tried to conceal it. Nobundo and the shamans were working harder than usual, and were not even taking in any training for the time. The worry only made the citizens of the Exodar feel worse, unsure of what was to happen, but it was obvious to anyone that there was definitely something up.

I Now Pronounce You, Part 3

I Now Pronounce You...Pt 3

 Previous chapter

Author: Riatcha

Note:  This is an alternate universe version.  Some characters are portrayed differently in this story.


They had both fallen asleep easily enough.  At some point during the night Atrophus awoke feeling part of a warm body pressed against him, an arm slung across his chest.  Somewhat sleepy eyes looked down to see that somehow Riatcha had mananged to work her head and most of her body in under his left arm and now her face was pressed tightly against side.  At first he frowned and trying not to wake her he attempted to extricate himself from her one armed hug, but she moved with him, not letting go.  After a moment he let out a sigh and lay still, allowing her to stay snuggled in against him, even going so far as to move his arm around her gently.  A few minutes later he fell asleep like that.


---------


Riatcha was in the main room, having set out the table for their breakfast and took a seat as Atrophus also joined her at the table with freshly made tea.  He watched her intently for a moment before speaking.

"Did your meeting with Triumvir go well?"  He asked.  He poured tea into both their cups; his a purple one, hers a dark green.  She nodded.

I Now Pronounce You... pt. 2

Author: Riatcha




Previous Chapter

(This story is set in an alternate universe.  Some characters are portrayed differently.)

Her staff strapped to her back and carrying her leather 'work suit' over one arm, Riatcha picked up the satchel of the rest of her belongings she had brought with her and stepped through the portal behind Atrophus.  Both were on their way back to the Exodar to; as Erusi had put it, enjoy their new life together.  After a moment it was as though she had just taken one step forward and she was standing in the Draenei city.  Atrophus was waiting for her, carrying a larger bag of his own things.

"Are you ready to see to getting our new quarters?"  He asked.  For a long moment she looked conflicted, but eventually she bowed her head slightly in agreement.

"It will get easier with time," he caught her gaze with his own eyes and she nodded, quickly looking away from him.

"I know," her voice was quiet, and he knew she was still unsure.

"It is this way," he headed in the direction of where the supplies were kept.  She followed behind him a few steps, her head bowed.  He didn't say anything until they arrived at their destination.  Where he explained the situation and what it was they required to the provisioner on duty there.  The female provisioner looked at the silent Riatcha behind him and simply nodded, seeing the matching necklaces they both wore.

I Now Pronounce You... pt. 1

Author: Riatcha

(This story is set in an alternate universe!)

Riatcha sat at one of the tables in the small library muttering something under her breath about Saaurnu while trying to write a note for Eudaimonia, explaining why she was leaving for the Exodar.

"There is no need to speak of Saaurnu that way, sister," Atrophus' voice spoke from behind her.  Riatcha turned in her seat to look at the tall Draenei.  He did not seem to be in any way upset.  She set her pencil down next to the scroll of paper and the large book on the table.

"Have you spoken to Saaurnu today?"  She asked him.  He walked towards her, limping slightly on his bad leg.

"No, I believe she has decided to join up with the other Echoes," he replied.  Riatcha sighed, leaning back in her seat.

"I see.  In that case can you explain to me what it is that married people do in Draenei culture?"  She watched him carefully.  He frowned, taking a seat and facing her.

"There are some books in my library on the Exodar that I would be happy to lend you so as you can learn about marriage customs, sister, if that is what you want," he answered, crossing his arms.  Riatcha sighed again, rubbing her finger and thumb against the bridge of her nose.

"You do not understand I think...Saaurnu did not...perform the rite of kinship.  She has told me that it was the rite of marriage, she said she was going to tell you..."  Riatcha trailed off, looking right at Atrophus.  His crossed arms loosened and a look of surprise crossed his face, before he frowned again.  For a moment he seemed unsure of what to say, his frown deepened.

"She did what?"  He finally asked.