Suffer Well, or Live Well?

The night sky was filled with the glimmer of countless stars, the scant clouds moving across the tapestry they created swiftly, allowing an almost unobstructed view from one horizon to another. Looking straight up, it was possible to imagine that you were floating amongst them, with nothing of the world around you or beneath you.

Kerryann sighed, letting the smoke from her cigarette trail lazily up towards those unreachable points of light in the distance. She was lying on her back, her cloak spread out beneath her and across the surface of the tomb upon which she rested, allowing her to gaze upwards without having to tilt her head. She could feel the coldness from the hard marble beneath her creeping into the fabric and against the bare flesh of her back, but it didn't bother her.

She brought her cigarette up to take another drag of it before letting her arm hang loosely over the edge of the monument upon which she rested. It was starting to become a habit of hers to come here to Stormwind's cemetery when she wanted to be alone to think or simply regenerate her energies. The guards assigned night duty around the cemetery's perimeter had long since given up on trying to prevent her from entering at night; they knew she'd simply conjure up a freezing cold mist and walk across the surface of the nearby lake itself to enter from an edge they couldn't watch. They also knew by now that she would never desecrate one of the monuments there, other than using it for a seat that was.

Kerryann had the utmost respect for the dead after all.

She smirked at the thought, still gazing up at the heavens and trying to find some feeling or emotion that their beauty could stir in her. Rationally she knew that the night sky WAS beautiful, but she found little reason to sit and actually soak in that beauty; little reason to think much at all of such sights. It was one of the reasons she liked the cemetery actually, besides for the solitude; she now and then DID feel a pang of...something...when she saw a beautifully carved memorial or the flowers and gifts that people left for their loved ones. In that, in their grieving she recognized that something beautiful had been lost, and it gave her a haunting stirring in her heart. It was something at least.

As Kerryann continued to watch the night sky above, she realized that there were two courses available to her in the future. Each had been championed by one of the new acquaintances she'd made, and each was radically different from one another, at least to her mind.

Kaelus had told her, "Live well." when she'd given the other the traditional parting remark of the Knights of the Ebon Blade. As if implying that there was something more in the world, as if life could go on after it was brought the brink of death and dragged into everlasting suffering. The thought had made Kerryann laugh. How could she 'live' when she was forever suffering from plague? How did one enjoy anything with the unbearable agony of a runeblade that fought to steal your soul every second you held it? A runeblade that even now rested in the soft earth beside the tomb upon which she reclined, beckoning her to wield it.

And yet, Kaelus has found some measure of happiness. Enough even to not be bitter about her recent loss of sight. Enough to greet a stranger warmly, and share a drink. Enough to love again, despite everything. Even the human who called himself Howley, suffering from a terrible curse that could cause him to harm those he loved, even he echoed the thought.

Love. The very thought made Kerryann's mind wander to the second viewpoint. It was love that made her what she was after all. Love that drove her onwards into darkness, that had brought her to this moment. Love that she'd long since purged from her heart with a stroke of her first runeblade. An action that had clearly been to Seylene's liking. An action that had been necessary and personally cleansing. The concept of 'suffering well' had been foremost in Kerryann's mind for years now. She used her suffering, her physical pain, to drive her onward. It was a whip, a scourge to make her bring down her foes, to make THEM suffer for what she had had to become. For what her ambition had made her.

Which then was the right way to live? It was an interesting question, and as Kerryann's past came back to haunt her in the fact that some of her former coven-friends were apparently alive, it was something that grew in the back of her mind. Eventually she would have to decide on one course or the other, because she couldn't stay in Stormwind forever like this; it had far too many memories in it.

As if to emphasize that fact, the stillness of the night was broken by footfalls nearby. Kerryann flicked her cigarette away and rolled over onto her belly, pressing herself against the marble with her glowing blue eyes scanning the nearby monuments. Most of them were higher than the tomb upon which she lay and she was hidden from sight as a figure made its way past the rows of headstones, stopping at one very near to where she was positioned.

Stopping at Kerryann's own monument.

The figure sighed, leaning down to brush away ashes from the top of the monument before speaking, "Oh Light, who would go and smoke cigarettes near your tomb Kerry? How disrespectful to leave the ash here. Don't you worry though, I'll clean it up good enough."

Kerryann's nearly lifeless heart skipped a beat as she heard the words and recognized the voice; it was one of her dearest childhood friends named Alissa Goodstone. She'd not seen the woman in well over a decade, and they'd been teenagers when last they parted as Kerryann headed off to Dalaran for schooling.

"I'm sorry I haven't come to visit recently Kerry," Alissa continued, unaware that she was being observed. "Things have been so busy lately! I know I should have come to see you on the Day of the Dead, but your parents said your spirit hadn't appeared anyway."

The words were like little daggers stabbing the death knight. She watched the woman as she knelt before the monument, her fingers tracing the carvings there while she spoke.

"I suppose maybe that means you're at peace somewhere," the woman continued. "I hope that's the case! I know it's silly, talking to a piece of stone when you likely can't hear, but...I just wanted you to know that i remember."

The woman's eyes were glistening with tears as she spoke, and Kerryann felt like she was a part of the stone upon which she lay. Alissa continued, her voice cracking a bit, "One day I'll bring my children to visit you. I've already told my oldest about you. She's four now, and has black hair like her father. That's the reason why I couldn't come sooner you see, I've just had my second a few months ago and things have been hectic. I'm sure you know that though, wherever you are. I'm sure you're watching us and know."

Kerryann actually winced as her friend spoke to the monument. She would never have children of her own now, not after what she'd done to her body. She remembered that it had always been one of Alissa's dreams though, something that they both shared together when they were much younger. Another thing she'd sacrificed for power. One of the many things.

As Kerryann watched, her friend rose and brushed the top of the memorial again, relighting some of the torches that the wind had blown out. "Anyway, I don't want to stay too long and jabber on. I just...I hope that you're happy Kerry, wherever you are. I know one day we'll see each other again. Rest well my friend."

With that the woman turned and walked away slowly, leaving the memorial behind with candles burning on top. Kerryann's eyes tracked her through the cemetery until she was swallowed by the night. Slowly her eyes returned to the lit memorial that her friend had tended to, her mind turning the other's words over and over.

After a time, the ghoulish woman smiled to herself, rolling back over and looking up at the stars again. A strange sense of calm flowed through her, carried by the faint beating of her nearly dead heart. She had finally seen something beautiful in the night, something she could appreciate. It was the beauty of a life that had come and gone. One that had given others joy and sorrow. A perfect story, from start to finish.

The question now was where the story would go after it was over.

Suffer well or live well? One cannot do both, but how does one live when one is suffering? And how does one suffer when one also lives? What a fascinating place I've brought myself to.

Naturally, the still night and stars above gave her no answer as she lay there, staring at nothing for hours to come.