"You have my violin," Beckyann's voice drifted from the night.
Father Robert Delion nearly jumped out of his skin in shock. Sitting alongside the flowing stream in his grotto, he hadn't heard her approach at all and he scrambled to his feet, nearly tripping over the hem of his gray robes in his haste. He whirled to face her, a mixture of fear and anxiety flowing through him.
She stood just within the light of the candles he had lit to help him see his drawing pad. Wearing the same silver and black dress she'd had on when she first played for him, her pose was hostile, her hands planted firmly on her hips. Realizing he'd taken too long to respond already, Father Delion blurted out a few muttered words, "I have it. I've kept it safe for you. It's right here."
She walked towards him, eyes fixed on the pack that he'd pointed to. As she got closer, Father Delion knew he had only a moment to say all of the things that were in his mind. He found his tongue tied as she bent down and retrieved the instrument, his chance slipping away possibly forever. As she turned to go, a surge of emotion burst through him, and he grabbed her arm, gently turning her around, "Becky wait..."
She paused, seemingly unsure of herself as he held her arm. He could feel the silken threads of her dress beneath his hand, and the cold flesh beneath. Again he pondered why she didn't dress warmer if she was cold, but such thoughts flew from his mind quickly as he realized he had to talk, had to say something to make her stay. "Becky...I didn't mean to upset you the other night. It's just that..."
"Robert, don't," she said flatly. She bit her lip, actually appearing nervous. "Just...just don't."
He shook his head, unable to accept the answer, "Why Becky? I just want to know why? Has my company been so unpleasant? Do I remind you of something? I just...please, just why?"
She shook her head ever so slightly, her expression unreadable behind her thick, tinted glasses, "Just don't, Robert. I c-can't...Please, just let go. Let me go."
He frowned, feeling a bit of anger rise up, both at himself and at her. He stared at her, shaking his head, "Just look me in the eyes, and tell me why. I think that you can at least give me that courtesy, can't you? I've earned that at least, haven't I?"
She said nothing, and he could feel his heart breaking in his chest. And yet, there was something in her stance, in the way her mouth tightened into a thin line that made him think that she wasn't angry at him so much at something else. He reached forward, his hand slowly moving towards her face, towards her glasses. As he touched the cool metal of the rims, he heard the slightest whimper from her, heard the slightest whisper, "Don't, Robert...please."
And then the glasses were in his hand, pushed up into the thick blonde hair that he had so admired in the sunlight, but that was an afterthought now as he saw her eyes. Saw her scourge-blue glowing eyes. The eyes of the undead. A gasp escaped him despite himself, and the sorrow that crossed her features was like a slap to the face.
Everything came crashing into crystal clarity in that moment. Her talk of her relationship with the Light. The way she seemed to appear oddly from the forest. The way she was always cold to the touch, and avoided touching him as much as she could. Her duties, everything she said. It all became horribly clear in that singular moment.
"Becky...why didn't you just tell me?" was all he could think to say.
"Because you were nice to me, Robert. Because you treated me like a person, for a time," came her hesitant reply.
"Who are you really, why did you lie to me?" he said, feeling hurt and confused. She looked away from him, her glowing orbs downcast.
"I never lied to you. My name is Beckyann Eastberg. I am a Sergeant of the 1113th Reformed Scourge Legion, the Knights of Menethil. I am a Knight of the Ebon Blade, Robert," she said quietly.
He paused, trying to absorb it all, to come to terms with the mixture of feelings that threatened to crush him. In the silence, she looked at him, shaking her head sadly, "Please, just let me go, Robert. Let me walk away. You understand now why I can never see you again. Why we can never continue...this, don't you?"
Something inside him snapped. He grabbed her other arm, holding both of them as he stared into her eyes. She gasped at his grip, surprised by the sudden move. His voice was firm as he spoke, the emotion raw in his voice, "No, Becky. I can't accept that. I've come to love you, and I don't care what you are. I love the woman inside. I love your spirit."
He leaned towards her, and her voice was quiet but pleading, "Robert, don't. Y-you...you remind me what it felt like, t-to be alive. To have a heart, to care. P-please, don't tempt me with this. It hurts me, it only hurts me to resist it, to p-pretend that I would like nothing more in the world than to breathe again right now, to love again. J-just...just let me go, I n-need to forget this."
"No," he said softly.
He leaned forwards, his lips pressing against hers, his kiss full of passion. Her eyes widened in shock for a moment as she struggled with something. For the briefest of moments, she allowed herself the luxury of not caring, of living in the fantasy of the moment and pretending she was alive. As her eyes slipped closed and she returned the kiss, he saw the glow dim, saw a sparkle of green behind the scourgelight. For a moment, they embraced one another, locked in that kiss, in an emotion that was beyond her now.
Father Delion was awed at the way the kiss made him weak in the knees. As they broke it off, he felt his head spinning, felt the world rolling around him, emotions racing through him and his heartbeat pounding in his ears. He wondered idly when he had begun to lean on her, rather than hold her in his arms. He felt a chill run up his spine, the weakness growing.
Beckyann knew what was happening, she understood instantly what the consequences of that forgotten moment were, and her face hardened as she looked down at him, already supporting his weight with her arms. It was plague. Frost Fever or a blood plague most likely. She carried so many diseases it was hard to keep track of them. They were highly lethal, and easily transmitted from the diseased fluids in her body, in her mouth.
As he began to shiver, she looked at him in sorrow, her voice tight with strain, "Do you see now, Robert? Do you see the price that I pay, that we both pay, when I forget what I am? Do you understand now that the woman you think you love died so very long ago? That a corpse holds you in her arms?"
He shook his head, shivering as he was supported by her. It was hard to think, but he didn't care, it had been worth it. "It doesn't matter B-becky. I-I'd still do it again."
Her head jerked back as if she'd been slapped, and those glowing blue orbs bore into his, "You...are braver than those who loved me when I was alive. More honest with your feelings and more noble than the brave warriors who fought and fell beside me long ago. For that dear Robert I shall walk with you. We will walk into the Light together, and you will see what you will see."
He didn't understand, but she hadn't expected him to. With unnatural strength she scooped him up, holding him as one might hold a child in their arms. His head rested against her chest, and he heard no heart beating within her. As he pondered this, she barked a word, a dark word that the human tongue was not meant to utter. He shuddered at the sound, his head pounding with the fevers that had already set in.
The sky above rolled as he looked up, and yet it wasn't the sky but a dot that was crossing the stars. It grew larger as he tried to make sense of it, skeletal wings blotting out the night as the undead gryphon landed, hissing at him. Beckyann ignored its antics, walking up to it and slinging him across the saddle gently. She climbed up behind him, holding him tightly with one hand as he vomited black ichor onto the ground. She shook her head grimly, yanking cruelly on the reins and forcing the creature up into the air.
The next few minutes were a blur for Robert, the flight a nightmare of wind and flapping bones. He saw the ground far below them, the lights of Stormwind fast approaching as Beckyann flew faster than the wind itself. As they circled the city, the greatest light of all came from the golden Cathedral in the middle of the city, and they began to descend towards it.
They landed on the Cathedral's steps, scandalized parishioners looking on in shock as the undead beast alighted on the stones. It hissed menacingly at them even as Beckyann hopped off, and two guards in front of the cathedral drew swords. Beckyann ignored them all for the moment as her gryphon attempted to turn its head and bite Robert. Hand glowing with necromantic magic, she backhanded the beast, illiciting a terrible shriek from it. She didn't really care though, ignoring it once more as she reached up and carefully took Robert in her arms.
The guards approached her, swords drawn and she stared them down. One of them gestured at her, a question in her eyes.
"I am Beckyann Eastberg, of the 1113th. This man is sick and needs a healer immediately. Stand aside so that I may get him to aid or Light help you I will throw you out of the way myself," she stated coldly.
Seeing the now convulsing man in her arms, the two guards warily backed up, lowering their swords. Beckyann walked to the front of the cathedral, pausing in the entrance. She looked down at Robert, and he could see a look of grim determination cross her face as she battled with herself.
He smiled up at her weakly, his words barely heard, "W-we'll walk in the Light together, Becky."
She nodded at him, taking a deep, completely unnecessary breath before stepping into the cathedral. She passed church-goers as she walked, their shocked expressions clearly focused on her unnaturally glowing eyes. She ignored them, taking one step at a time, moving towards the altar where a blessing had been going on. Robert could hear each step as she moved across the marble and the rest of the cathedral fell silent. He could hear the rustle of the cloth of her dress as she moved over his own frantic gasps for breath.
The fever was claiming him. He could feel it now, a burning and freezing sensation all at once. He looked up at her, wanting to at least say goodbye and he gasped at what he saw. Two dirty streams of brackish red-black liquid leaked from her eyes. Not tears this time, he realized that walking on the holy ground was burning her. As she walked resolutely towards the altar, her nose began to drip the same diseased fluids, her lips drying and cracking. Although she had entered the cathedral before, approaching the altar, the very center of holy worship in the place, was an entirely different trial and one that she was not prepared for. As Robert watched, the skin on her face began to crack like fine porcelain, flakes of it falling away as the Light burned her unholy form.
She stumbled towards the altar, the priests there regarding her with shock as she gently lowered him to the base of the structure. She managed to get herself upright, her voice coming out in a hoarse croak, "Blood plague. Frost Fever. Needs healing quickly."
The priests nodded at her in silence, and she turned to go. From the floor, Robert reached a hand out, his voice weak, "Becky....I love you."
She paused, turning to look at him, those glowing eyes affixed with his. For the briefest of moments, the sorrow filled eyes of a young woman looked back at him, the haunted tone in her voice enough for him to understand how costly it had all been for both of them.
"Goodbye, Robert."
She turned and walked away. None of the people in the cathedral blocked her path as she stumbled out of the structure, the guards keeping a wary distance from figure that was now oozing diseased black ichor from multiple wounds. Her gryphon hissed at her, and she gave it such a baleful look that it immediately cowed, crouching down low and placing its head on the ground. She literally stepped on its skull to climb into the saddle, her eyes blazing with scourgelight as she stared the guards down one more time.
With a brutal yank on the reins, the gryphon took flight, carrying her away from the Light that had burned her so. To her credit, it took all of Beckyann's will for her not to look back at the glowing point of light on the ground below as it faded into the distance and into her memory.
No comments:
Post a Comment