Her hands were shaking
again. She could feel them trembling, even as she pressed them against
the charred ground in front of her. Her eyes were closed, but she could
still hear the sounds coming from the other side of the small rise that
she sheltered behind. She knew what was there.
Demons.
Her eyes opened, their color a dull silver in the dim light of Netherstorm. Purple lightning flickered in the distant sky, if one could call the twisting nether a proper sky for a planet. Malandrae chose not to look up, not to acknowledge that she was anywhere but on a perfectly normal world, trying to pretend everything was fine.
A drop of blood fell from her nose, landing with a puff of dust in the dirt of a Legion-killed world.
I'm fine. Everything is fine. I can do this. I can face this. It will be alright.
She just had to look, had to plot her course to the ruined structure ahead. Cautiously she rose up, her ears peeking first over the top of the mound of barren earth followed quickly by her high ponytails and then her eyes. Her sight took in the ruined manaforge in the distance, the objective of her venture. Destroyed long ago when it malfunctioned and demons swarmed over it, the place was abandoned now to those same creatures. She lowered her sight, taking in the ruined camps, the voidwalkers and other demonic entities prowling freely over the barren skeletons of the elves who once worked the forge.
It didn't matter that the blood elves had been doing something vile there. It didn't matter that they would have had to be stopped. No one deserved to die the way they had. No one deserved to have their flesh scoured off by demonic magics while they screamed out their last breath.
Malandrae shook her head, trying to steady herself. The shaking was getting worse now. As her eyes lingered over the still skeletal forms of elves, she could hear screaming in the back of her mind. Flashes of hallucination lingered before her eyes; the image of a burning city overlaying the scenes of death that were very real in front of her. She sank down to her knees, her whole body shaking now as her memories struggled to free themselves, to force her to relive the things she so very desperately wanted to forget.
"Nnnnngh..." she whimpered, clasping her knees to her chest. Her heart beat rapidly and she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the visions.
If I surrender to this, if I sink into it, I will fail in my objective. I will fail Chelody. I cannot let this stop me, not when I'm so close. I know what I have to do.
Her body shook as she struggled to force herself to move. Her nose bled freely now as she squeezed down on the memories that threatened to overwhelm her. She felt dizzy and sick to her stomach, and she wanted to curl up into a ball and just fade away, to forget all of it.
No. There is something I have to do. And I WILL do it.
Before she even realized what she was doing, Malandrae had risen from behind the mound of charred earth. Even as she struggled with herself, her boots pressed into the dust, moving her forward. Even as she doubted herself, her willpower forced her body onward. Distantly she heard a defiant warcry echo through the air, and only belatedly did she realized it had issued from her own mouth.
The first three voidwalkers that had been prowling the ruins had only a fraction of a second to ponder the meaning of the echoing cry before they were utterly obliterated by magic missiles. Explosions rocked the area where they had been, shredding their essences to nothingness, returning them to the void that had spawned them. The ruins of the camp and the elven skeletons disappeared in flashes of brilliant magical light as Malandrae strode forward, her eyes blazing silver.
More of the demons surged from the surrounding ruins, intent on devouring more elf-flesh, eager to slaughter the intruder that had dared to come amongst them. Malandrae had made it halfway to the dark opening of the ruined manaforge before the first reached her. Arcane explosions rippled outward, the very air shimmering with magic as Malandrae's voice rose up over the echoing blasts, her spellsongs creating beauty in the miniature hell that netherstorm had become.
Demonic claws reached for her, only to be turned aside by wards the likes of which the blood elves of the camp had not had access too. Voidwalkers slithered forward, only to be hurled back away from her as barrages of arcane energy slammed into them, destroying their forms utterly.
In the midst of it all, Malandrae stood, her magic a perfect harmony in the air around her. Brilliant light flickered across her form, and ancient highborne runes hung glowing in the air as her spells lashed out. Her power was reflected in the silver of her eyes, and streamed from her fingertips like flowing water. And all the while her nose bled and she shook, clamping down on the horrible sickness inside of herself as hard as she could, facing the things she feared most in all of the world.
Claws reached for her and pierced her wards and without even thinking Malandrae spun, her dancer's grace allowing her to twirl past the razor sharp death that missed her by a hair's breath. Magic flared and a demon howled as another lashed out at her face. She dipped backwards, the claws narrowly missing her eyes and shifting a lock of her hair out of place as they flew over her. In a distant part of her mind, Malandrae realized that Florinai would likely be impressed with her acrobatics, even as she fought desperately to stay alive.
A whispered word and she was gone, reappearing in the distance as demons piled into one another, thinking they were about to rend her to pieces. Even as the voidwalkers crashed together, Malandrae pointed at them with a shaking hand, sending dozens of arcane missiles into the pack of creatures, shredding them to bits. They died, howling as they were returned to the nether and in the distance, more demons took up the chase, the howls drawing them out.
Malandrae turned and ran, the opening to the manaforge looming over her. She sang a few words and caressed the stonework of the forge's opening, placing runes there as she dashed down the unlit corridor ahead. Singing another song, she conjured lights to guide her, pressing on to the heart of the forge where a rift to the void itself hung in the air. It was not what she was interested in, and she quickly scanned the interior of the structure until she found what she had been seeking.
Lying in a pile of debris, tilted on its side was one of the energy cubes that the blood elves had used to store their magic. She dashed over to it, reaching out and tipping it upright. In the distance, there was a cataclysmic explosion as the demons crossed over the deadly wards that she had placed in the doorway of the forge. Demonic howls were cut off abruptly as the second stage of wards activated, shredding them with arcane magic.
Malandrae smiled grimly and muttered to herself, "Go back where you came from you foul things..."
Realizing she had little time left, the Highborne reached down, her fingers caressing the top of the energy cube, feeling the magic within it. She sang a soft song and lights illuminated the outside of the cube, displaying clearly to her eyes the spellwork that had been used to create the device. Without hesitating, Malandrae pulled out her research journal, making notes.
Even as she shook with fear, even as demons howled in the entrance to the forge, Malandrae's hands were steady, copying the patterns from the energy cube into her journal perfectly, without a single mistake or hint of imperfection. Her one skill, her ability to draw spells and symbols, came into play as she completed the work in record time, setting the original architects of the magic to shame with her precise replication of their spell.
The howling grew louder as Malandrae finished, competing with the screaming voices that her memories tried to bring forth before her eyes. Her vision shifted from the inside of the ruined manaforge with its scenes of death to the ruins of Zin-azshari with its own scenes of death. Reality warped in her senses, and it was all she could do to remember who she was and what her purpose was, her inner strength forcing her to finish what she'd started.
Her voice sang one last time, the notes unsteady as her mind struggled for control. A portal opened, and then a moment later she was gone.
When the demons arrived, they found only wisps of magic floating in the air and a trail of Highborne blood on the floor where Malandrae had suffered while she completed her work. The elf and her precisely written notes about energy siphoning and storage were gone, safely returned to her home.
It would be almost a full day before Malandrae could speak to another living person, and it would take all her courage to hide the raging memories that threatened to engulf her for days to come.
Demons.
Her eyes opened, their color a dull silver in the dim light of Netherstorm. Purple lightning flickered in the distant sky, if one could call the twisting nether a proper sky for a planet. Malandrae chose not to look up, not to acknowledge that she was anywhere but on a perfectly normal world, trying to pretend everything was fine.
A drop of blood fell from her nose, landing with a puff of dust in the dirt of a Legion-killed world.
I'm fine. Everything is fine. I can do this. I can face this. It will be alright.
She just had to look, had to plot her course to the ruined structure ahead. Cautiously she rose up, her ears peeking first over the top of the mound of barren earth followed quickly by her high ponytails and then her eyes. Her sight took in the ruined manaforge in the distance, the objective of her venture. Destroyed long ago when it malfunctioned and demons swarmed over it, the place was abandoned now to those same creatures. She lowered her sight, taking in the ruined camps, the voidwalkers and other demonic entities prowling freely over the barren skeletons of the elves who once worked the forge.
It didn't matter that the blood elves had been doing something vile there. It didn't matter that they would have had to be stopped. No one deserved to die the way they had. No one deserved to have their flesh scoured off by demonic magics while they screamed out their last breath.
Malandrae shook her head, trying to steady herself. The shaking was getting worse now. As her eyes lingered over the still skeletal forms of elves, she could hear screaming in the back of her mind. Flashes of hallucination lingered before her eyes; the image of a burning city overlaying the scenes of death that were very real in front of her. She sank down to her knees, her whole body shaking now as her memories struggled to free themselves, to force her to relive the things she so very desperately wanted to forget.
"Nnnnngh..." she whimpered, clasping her knees to her chest. Her heart beat rapidly and she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the visions.
If I surrender to this, if I sink into it, I will fail in my objective. I will fail Chelody. I cannot let this stop me, not when I'm so close. I know what I have to do.
Her body shook as she struggled to force herself to move. Her nose bled freely now as she squeezed down on the memories that threatened to overwhelm her. She felt dizzy and sick to her stomach, and she wanted to curl up into a ball and just fade away, to forget all of it.
No. There is something I have to do. And I WILL do it.
Before she even realized what she was doing, Malandrae had risen from behind the mound of charred earth. Even as she struggled with herself, her boots pressed into the dust, moving her forward. Even as she doubted herself, her willpower forced her body onward. Distantly she heard a defiant warcry echo through the air, and only belatedly did she realized it had issued from her own mouth.
The first three voidwalkers that had been prowling the ruins had only a fraction of a second to ponder the meaning of the echoing cry before they were utterly obliterated by magic missiles. Explosions rocked the area where they had been, shredding their essences to nothingness, returning them to the void that had spawned them. The ruins of the camp and the elven skeletons disappeared in flashes of brilliant magical light as Malandrae strode forward, her eyes blazing silver.
More of the demons surged from the surrounding ruins, intent on devouring more elf-flesh, eager to slaughter the intruder that had dared to come amongst them. Malandrae had made it halfway to the dark opening of the ruined manaforge before the first reached her. Arcane explosions rippled outward, the very air shimmering with magic as Malandrae's voice rose up over the echoing blasts, her spellsongs creating beauty in the miniature hell that netherstorm had become.
Demonic claws reached for her, only to be turned aside by wards the likes of which the blood elves of the camp had not had access too. Voidwalkers slithered forward, only to be hurled back away from her as barrages of arcane energy slammed into them, destroying their forms utterly.
In the midst of it all, Malandrae stood, her magic a perfect harmony in the air around her. Brilliant light flickered across her form, and ancient highborne runes hung glowing in the air as her spells lashed out. Her power was reflected in the silver of her eyes, and streamed from her fingertips like flowing water. And all the while her nose bled and she shook, clamping down on the horrible sickness inside of herself as hard as she could, facing the things she feared most in all of the world.
Claws reached for her and pierced her wards and without even thinking Malandrae spun, her dancer's grace allowing her to twirl past the razor sharp death that missed her by a hair's breath. Magic flared and a demon howled as another lashed out at her face. She dipped backwards, the claws narrowly missing her eyes and shifting a lock of her hair out of place as they flew over her. In a distant part of her mind, Malandrae realized that Florinai would likely be impressed with her acrobatics, even as she fought desperately to stay alive.
A whispered word and she was gone, reappearing in the distance as demons piled into one another, thinking they were about to rend her to pieces. Even as the voidwalkers crashed together, Malandrae pointed at them with a shaking hand, sending dozens of arcane missiles into the pack of creatures, shredding them to bits. They died, howling as they were returned to the nether and in the distance, more demons took up the chase, the howls drawing them out.
Malandrae turned and ran, the opening to the manaforge looming over her. She sang a few words and caressed the stonework of the forge's opening, placing runes there as she dashed down the unlit corridor ahead. Singing another song, she conjured lights to guide her, pressing on to the heart of the forge where a rift to the void itself hung in the air. It was not what she was interested in, and she quickly scanned the interior of the structure until she found what she had been seeking.
Lying in a pile of debris, tilted on its side was one of the energy cubes that the blood elves had used to store their magic. She dashed over to it, reaching out and tipping it upright. In the distance, there was a cataclysmic explosion as the demons crossed over the deadly wards that she had placed in the doorway of the forge. Demonic howls were cut off abruptly as the second stage of wards activated, shredding them with arcane magic.
Malandrae smiled grimly and muttered to herself, "Go back where you came from you foul things..."
Realizing she had little time left, the Highborne reached down, her fingers caressing the top of the energy cube, feeling the magic within it. She sang a soft song and lights illuminated the outside of the cube, displaying clearly to her eyes the spellwork that had been used to create the device. Without hesitating, Malandrae pulled out her research journal, making notes.
Even as she shook with fear, even as demons howled in the entrance to the forge, Malandrae's hands were steady, copying the patterns from the energy cube into her journal perfectly, without a single mistake or hint of imperfection. Her one skill, her ability to draw spells and symbols, came into play as she completed the work in record time, setting the original architects of the magic to shame with her precise replication of their spell.
The howling grew louder as Malandrae finished, competing with the screaming voices that her memories tried to bring forth before her eyes. Her vision shifted from the inside of the ruined manaforge with its scenes of death to the ruins of Zin-azshari with its own scenes of death. Reality warped in her senses, and it was all she could do to remember who she was and what her purpose was, her inner strength forcing her to finish what she'd started.
Her voice sang one last time, the notes unsteady as her mind struggled for control. A portal opened, and then a moment later she was gone.
When the demons arrived, they found only wisps of magic floating in the air and a trail of Highborne blood on the floor where Malandrae had suffered while she completed her work. The elf and her precisely written notes about energy siphoning and storage were gone, safely returned to her home.
It would be almost a full day before Malandrae could speak to another living person, and it would take all her courage to hide the raging memories that threatened to engulf her for days to come.
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