It was obvious to state that Ashnod did not get much rest the previous night, her sheer worry about the sinister voice in her head as well as the strange green crystal and its effects it had on her had created dark circles under her eyes. She considered carefully if she should assume her Sandstone drake form and risk a blackout episode, then decided against it, calling upon Volturnos, her ember wyrm.
The heat radiated off of him, and from his skeletal jaw, a mess of molten iron fell onto the ground hissing and popping at her robes. His snout jutted into her chest and she held his head to her and patted the smooth bone lovingly. She swung astride the drake, and patted his neck, earning a rumble from the barrel of his chest.
“Alright, I need to get to Orgrimmar and fast. While you wait, you can have your fill of the boars in Durotar.” She commanded, and the Drake shook his massive head and gave a few test pumps of his wings before shooting off into the sky, Ashnod clinging to his body for dear life. A little ambitious today it seems. She chuckled to herself.
The day was hot, the sun beat down relentlessly, making the air dry and stale. Her eyes watered as her drake sliced through the very sky above Durotar. She felt the familiar tingle in her nose and immediately reached up to pinch it shut. She looked down at herself and realized that it had already bled on her purple robes. She spluttered in anger and accidentally blew more blood out onto and down the front.
NOT MY PURPLE ROBEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
She raged internally. Her head swam for a moment, and she leaned down onto her dragon, expecting to black out again. She opened her eyes to see the large gates of Orgrimmar nearing at a terrifying speed before her vision began to blur and grow darker…
_"… outside the gates, not sure where she…" _
“…I’ve seen this before… we need to get her to…”
“Please calm the drake down before he incinerates us.”
Ashnod only heard bits and pieces of the conversation happening around her as she slowly came to. Her head banged and her eyes burned as she struggled to raise herself up to a sitting position. Just as soon as pain shot throughout her body, a rough hand shoved her shoulder gently backward, forcing her to lie down.
“Don’t be such a fool. Lie down.” Came a gruff voice, seemingly to float about in her skull. She looked around her and saw a bent-over figure hovering over a table with some rudimentary tools. She saw her pack on that table and feebly raised an arm to it. She needed to get to a warlock, it was noted in the black tome that warlocks used that crystal magic. “I said, lie still!” Came the voice again, louder now, which sent hammering pangs throughout her skull. She grimaced at this, and put a hand to her head, and attempted to rise again, grinding her teeth against the pain in her midsection. She felt a fit of anger stir in her when she felt a strong hand against her shoulder again, forcing her down. She quickly reached for the dagger in her right sleeve, as her elbow had her propped up against the stone table and slashed at the assailing hand, or anything to keep them off her. The blade connected and a whisk noise was heard, and the voice grunted in surprise. Ashnod looked dazedly for the figure trying to keep her lying down. Her vision began to clear slightly, and a large frame filled her vision. Her eyes immediately narrowed, and her nostrils flared with her building rage. A damn orc thinking he can keep me down? FEH!
She spat at the orc, and sat upon the stone, keeping her dagger at arms’ length and towards the offending orc. Said orc was inspecting the green blood dribbling from his forearm intently and lowered it to glare silently at her. She quickly used her right hand and gently patted at her midsection, not taking her eyes off the orc to figure out what was causing this pain. She hissed at herself and stole a glance. There was a messy, bloodied wound through her side as if a blade had grazed her. She snarled again at the fact that this robe was completely and utterly trashed. She took a moment to accept the robes’ fate and averted her attention back to the orc. He was wearing a weirdly horned helm, green and black robe with massive pauldrons, and his eyes were glowing green. He inhaled and growled, and a green mist gently came from his mouth as it turned into a frown around his tusks. Something about how that mist and his eyes glowed a familiar green… THAT’S IT! IN MY DREAM!
Her eyes widened in shock at her realization and shifted to look around for the other person there, causing the pain to shoot up through her body. She hissed, and her right hand grasped at her side, feeling her hot blood rush and ooze around her fingers. The orc shifted on his feet as if about to take a step towards her, and she waved the dagger at him like a viper would weave its head at a predator.
“Where am I, and who are you two? I must speak to a warlock, IMMEDIATELY.” She growled in a low tone, emphasizing the urgency of her mission. A cackle was heard behind her, and she found the source from the corner of her eye all the while, watching the large orc warily.
“Well you’ve found me, and it so happens there’s another warlock to help me here.” The hunched form came around to the far end of the table and made a shrugging gesture. “You’ve proven to be a bit more for me to handle, so I’ve acquired some aid.” He held up a finger to wait a moment, and turned towards her pack and rummaged with it. Ashnod was about to object to the lack of privacy shown by the so-called warlock when the large hands grabbed her dagger hand and her shoulder and shoved her onto her back with force. She tried to finagle the dagger in her hand to assault the orc further, but his grip was too strong and he forced her to drop the weapon. His body hovered over hers, his green eyes burning within the helm. She immediately thought about the voice she heard.
“Did the voice speak to you as well?” She snarled. The eyes shifted toward the hunched warlock, and they both had shared a knowing look. The warlock pulled the green crystal from her pouch and held it up. The orc made a quiet noise of surprise as he saw the crystal.
“Where exactly did you find this my dear? Also, what have been your… side effects so far?” He asked, walking towards her, waving the crystal in the air. Ashnod bit on her lip, and shook her head, refusing to say anything to them. The orc didn’t take kindly to that and landed his hand right onto her wound with a wet smack noise. This elicited an agonizing scream from Ashnod as she bucked on the table to get free from these torturous warlocks. Her chin was grasped with his bloody hand, and her face was yanked towards the orcs’ face.
“Answers.” He growled, his green breath whooshing over her face. She coughed, and blinked at the disgusting act, her brows furrowing angrily in the offense.
“None of your business on where I found it. A lucid dream with a green orb, a voice telling me to absorb it, blacking out and a severely bloody nose.” Ashnod answered begrudgingly through clenched teeth. Her side was throbbing with pain, and she could feel her blood pool beneath the small of her back. The hunched warlock began to mind the wound now and began to staunch the flow with some dirty-looking rags.
“Hold this.” He said to the orc, then turned to his cabinet and retrieved a vial. Ashnod squirmed, not wanting to take a mystery potion. “Here,” he said, returning to the table and lowering a red vial to her face. Her glare looked over at the orcs’ whose eyes were still firmly on hers. He gave her wound a squeeze through the rags. Ashnod winced and went to cry out in pain when the liquid was quickly poured into her mouth and as she choked it down in order to breathe, she felt it’s warmth spread throughout her body. “More pressure, now as it heals. We will check in a bit if she needs another dose.” Silence ensued as Ashnod’s mind ran with ideas on how she would off these two offenders, first the orc only because his smell was as bad as him crushing her wound.
“Who are you, and what is in that crystal? I gave you your answers, I demand some in return.” Ashnod groaned, now experiencing a tingling sensation within her body as well as the heat radiating from the orcs hand. The hunched warlock laughed and waved his hand dismissively.
“I don’t even remember my true name–only the one given to me by the locals here. And as for that crystal… It’s a fel crystal. Not many have been found, but they do exist. They carry a quite potent amount of fel magic.” The warlock laughed, shaking his head “You are about to have the worst week of your life, little one. You might as well embrace the fel, it will be the only thing that saves your existence you call a life.” Ashnod blinked in response and shook her head.
“Fel magics are forbidden… How-” She began to ask, but was cut off by the orcs’ gruff laughter.
“FEL… is glorious. It’s the most POWERFUL magics available. Anyone that speaks differently is clearly wrong and are fools.” He said, a sinister smile curling around his tusks as he looked down at her. The other warlock chuckled at the orc.
“You’re right… you’re right.” He said, nodding. He tapped at the orcs’ hand, so that he may check the wound beneath the reddened rags. He raised his head and nodded. “This will do. You may be able to sit up now.” The orc released his grip on her shoulder, and she shrugged his hand away, sat up and inspected the wounded area… it had healed, leaving a slight scar. Ashnod swung her legs over the tables’ edge, her hands gripped at either side of her, contemplating if she would be able to walk. The orc had then extended his hand to her, offering a kind gesture. She wrinkled her nose at the sight of her blood on his band, and instead hopped down without assistance, brushing past the offered hand.
“I can manage.” She snapped, and almost dropped to a knee, but caught herself. She heard the faintest of chuckles from behind her coming from the orc. She could feel the anger rise in her hackles, but regained her composure and carefully strode towards the door. Just outside, she could hear the rumbling of Volturnos and opened the door.
“She’ll be back…” Muttered the orc, and glanced over his shoulder at the older lock behind him, hands on the table, staring after the female blood elf. His eyes met the orcs.
“This one holds great promise. I can already see it working within her.” He murmured thoughtfully, then added, “You may want to keep an eye on her.”
The orc snorted, shaking his head. “She’s weak, I see nothing of worth in that small body. It’ll just rip her apart.” He crossed his arms.
Ashnod slammed the door behind her and was immediately greeted by her drake, who had been apparently pacing back and forth in the grass before the stone hut, for the earth was torn up and rough from his talons. He rumbled in his chest as he jutted his snout into her chest again, inhaling her scents and softly whining at the scent of her blood.
She sighed heavily, and rested her forehead on the dragon’s nose, closing her eyes.
“I’ll be fine, Volt… Don’t worry too much-”
“Child, why haven’t you used my gift?!” Came the voice from her dream last night.
She didn’t know how to respond, she wasn’t aware of any gift. Just as those thoughts ran through her head, she felt a swirling force build up within her, and her palms suddenly began to itch awfully. She suddenly felt very uncomfortable, her hands began to heat. Volturnos made a chirping noise and backed away warily. “This… is my gift… now uuuuse it.”
Ashnod inhaled sharply, worried where this might turn, but an odd emotion struck her just then. The need to burn, the need to release. She raised a hand and just… channeled the swirling force within her and immediately, her hand engulfed in a beautiful, emerald green flame. She was immediately entranced by it, staring into its depths as the flames danced across her palm, not harming her skin at all. She slowly became aware of the small grove of trees across the road, and her gaze slowly shifted back towards the flame. As if sensing what she was thinking, the flame enraged, dancing to a more furious beat. She strode across the graveled road and towards the closest tree and just threw the fire at it. The flames greedily devoured the bark, eating the life and making it pop and snap as the flames began to reach upwards towards the lower branches, leaving nothing behind. The blackened bark stood for but a moment, the embers flitting and winking out in green.
Her eyes went into a thousand-yard stare, and she raised her hands suddenly, as if lifting something above her head, and small comets of green rained from the sky, engulfing the canopy of the trees, leaving behind charred trees before they crumpled into ashes. She stood there, mesmerized by the sight.
“Gooood, yesssss…” Whispered the voice.
The odd emotion left her body, and she seemed to snap out of her gaze and turned to return to Volturnos, patiently waiting on the road for her. She then saw the hut door open, and the orc stepped through, and stopped mid-stride to notice the smoke rising to the sky and the trees but a blackened pile of ash. She raged inwardly at the orcs’ presence, and a circular shape around her immediately incinerated in a flash, leaving only a few flames licked at the nearby green grass as they flickered out. She didn’t break her glare as she swung a leg over her drake and gave him a kick. Volturnos pushed off the ground and rose into the blackening sky, made a circle and found a warm draft to soar South.
To be continued…