Broken Doll

Beckyann smiled to herself as she walked through the narrow opening of the wall surrounding the Dwarven District of Stormwind. Her plate boots thudded on the cobblestones as she adjusted the pack on her back. Her trip to the city had been successful, and she'd acquired a number of items that she needed to continue her research and restock her magical components.

She turned a corner, heading into the canal area between the Cathedral and Dwarven Districts when suddenly something small and soft collided with the thigh high purple plate armor that covered one of her legs. She blinked in surprise, looking down to see a wide-eyed child sprawled on the cobblestones; the young boy had run right into her. Beckyann's eyes widened and she held out both hands towards the boy, her mouth already opening to make a soothing 'shushing' noise.

Of course, it was already far too late.

The little boy took one look at the dead woman reaching for him and began to wail. Despite Beckyann's frantic attempts to calm him, his shrieks grew louder and louder. Immediately down the road from the two, Beckyann caught movement in the corner of her eye as a street vendor that was selling apples stepped from around his cart, glaring at her. Behind him, a woman paused and pointed, shouting, “That...that THING just shoved a little boy!”

Beckyann sighed slightly, expelling what little air she'd had in her lungs as she stood upright. The woman that had shouted had attracted the attention of other people on the street, and now she was confronted with a crowd of living, breathing, angry people. Some of the hand hands on their hips while others shook their fists, and above the noise they were starting to make, the child's wailing continued. Beckyann rolled her eyes and took a step away from the child even as the gathering crowd moved towards her menacingly.

The death knight began to open her mouth to explain what had happened when an apple bounced off her armor and rolled on the paving stones. She looked down at it in surprise as the angry people surged towards her. “Now wait just one minute here!” she began and then quickly fell silent as she saw they would not be swayed. A look of irritation passed over her face and the urge to draw her runeblade and cut them all down grew in her mind. She shook her head and turned, walking swiftly towards the edge of the cobblestone path, the angry men and women getting closer.

Just as it looked like they would reach her and assault her, Beckyann stepped from the edge of the canal, plummeting towards the lake that took up this part of the city's grounds. She whispered words of magic and a cold mist spread from her, freezing the water beneath her and allowing her to walk across the surface of the water. Behind her, the angry people paused on the ledge as she strolled casually away, realizing they would have to swim to catch her and deciding it wasn't worth it as long as she was gone.

Beckyann looked back once to see the crowd dispersing and shook her head. With a grimace of irritation she made her way further across the lake, heading towards the graveyard behind the cathedral. The area almost called out to her, the calm serenity there devoid of living people that would cause her further distress.

She strode across the last few feet of water, easily hopping the fence and wandering amongst the memorials, feeling some relief pass through her as she separated herself from the world of the living for a time. All around her she was surrounded by tombs and crypts that were lovingly maintained in memory of the dead, and there was a haunting beauty to the area that always made her feel a sense of peace. Here she could admire the everlasting dedications of love that the living had left for the dead. She could see their final words for the fallen, blessing them and wishing them well on their journey into the hereafter. Here she could feel some small piece of herself stir as the dark beauty of the place touched what was left of her spirit.

Beckyann's glowing blue eyes scanned the surroundings before alighting upon a large granite slab that was about thigh height off the ground. On the top of it, a granite knight had been hand-carved into the stone, laying in repose as a dedication to the fallen warrior beneath the stone. With a smile, she walked over and hopped up onto the memorial, laying down and stretching herself out beside the stone knight. Her eyes closed for a moment and she stopped breathing, simply enjoying the feeling of having nothing living around her, of being allowed to exist without being accosted by anyone.

After a time, her eyes opened and she studied the stone figure next to her, a hand coming up to trace over his finely chiseled chin and cheek. Her smile widened, and she whispered to the stone as if talking to a person, “Well now, a fine sight you are, laying here when I needed you to champion me. Is that any way to protect a lady? I could have been such you know, if I had been allowed more time amongst the nobility. Surely I would not have been wealthy and powerful, but comfortable and with men like you to protect me from harm.”

She paused for a moment, studying the figure and sighing, “It is somewhat ironic isn't it? You're a knight and I am dead, and yet you are dead and I'm a knight! How in the heavens did such a thing come to pass?”

She giggled to herself, the sound hollow and eerie as it reflected off of the nearby memorials. Beckyann sighed again, running her hand over her would-be stone champion. “It is no matter now. I suppose you are more comfortable like this.”

She looked up and past the stone to which she'd been speaking, her eyes widening and a smile playing across her features again as she saw a bouquet of flowers left at a nearby grave. With one last pat on his stone chest, she left the knight to his rest and hopped down, walking over to the flowered memorial. She bent down, selecting a red rose from the bunch of flowers. Idly twirling the thorny stem in her hand, she wandered amongst the tombs and headstones until by chance she came across a reflecting pool. She casually leaned over it, studying the woman that looked back at her.

The girl had been beautiful once, that much was clear. Her blonde hair was still golden, if somewhat brittle at the ends. Green eyes of course now glowed with a foul blue light, but if she smiled JUST so, her white teeth still gleamed and none of the ichor that sometimes built up in her mouth was visible. Bluish-black lips had been painted a deep black so as to disguise their dead nature, although no amount of eye makeup could draw attention from the foulness of her glowing orbs, despite what she tried to do with it. Idly the death knight toyed with her hair, adjusting it to her liking. She looked up, holding the rose in her hand and studying it.

“We are much alike,” she told the stolen flower. “Both are beautiful, quite beautiful. Both have been plucked from the vine of life before their time, doomed to fade.”

She sighed, studying the petals before carefully placing the flower in her hair, patting a few loose stands into place. She looked at her reflection and smiled again, the somewhat irrational look on her face ignored by the broken mind of the dead woman staring down into the water.

“Unlike you, however, I will not fade away,” She murmured. “While your petals will wilt and die, I will remain like this forever, eternal. I am beyond all of that now. All I need to do is ensure that the living understand this and leave me to my own devices. Clearly they don't understand that we have the right to exist here. Perhaps I have not done enough to look or act like them? I do not know, but I do know that they will not threaten my existence, or that of my brothers and sisters.”

The gaze staring back at her now was filled with malice, reflecting the features of the dead woman above the water, “They will NEVER challenge my right to exist. Ever.”

With that last statement, she nodded curtly to herself and shifted the pack on her back, striding from the pool. With her new beauty product in her hair and the pep talk having restored her morale, she proceeded to find an open place, chanting in the language of death to open a death gate back to Acherus. It was time to return to those who understood her, to those who would not judge her for simply existing.