⭐️ Thallus never actually comes out and says it, but Windsong can tell by his -inaction- that he’s allowing himself the idea of becoming comfortable with her in his life. The house he lived in, which by his own lack of care or interest and therefore was noticeably filthy, was forbidden for her to clean.
Now he raises no objections to her latest projects to restore the house to a healthy living condition and even joins her in the cleaning.
⭐️ Khalithagos is unusually patient with Tyleril when he is too tired or stressed and stutters worse than usual. The Nexus dragon waits for him to finish speaking before answering in an uncommonly soft and consoling tone, trying his best to soothe the priests agitation.
He doesn’t do this for anyone else, however. He knows that sometimes we can’t help the injuries that keep one from having a healthy mind and doesn’t blame anyone for it.
Thallus stared down at the vase of flowers on the table, eyes narrowing as he took in the almost too sweet smell. “Windsong..” He gave a grunt and picked up the jar to examine the impromptu bouquet. “You need to stop leaving this shit at my work.”
Today I sat and watched you for a while. You’re an enigma to me now. Someone I once knew so well who became as distant as Argus. A star in the sky that i can see but never touch. I watched you work, shop in the Bazaar- strange how you do not linger in our old haunts- and at the end of the day you went to his grave. Both of their graves. First to your friend’s and then to our brother’s grave. Strange how, in death, They have become saints, absolved of all sins and you’ve become their most devout worshiper. It does not matter you do not know how they died or why- they became more precious now. I saw you toss my flowers away, clean away the dried offering of blood droplets left at the foot of our brother’s grave.
You didn’t listen the first time I explained them to you so I suppose the offerings I leave are clutter and trash for you. I kept waiting for it to sting and wound me. But it doesn’t bother me in the same way now. A mild irritation rather than a bleeding wound you left when you stepped out of my life. You called me a monster.
I agreed with you. I knew what I did and I know what I will continue to do.
I have a room mate now. Another of Tyleril’s friends. It’s interesting watching him. One day it’ll kill him to keep giving and pushing so much, to be so kind and hide so much pain. He breathes in broken glass and it stays in his chest, never quite healing and waiting for the right moment to hurt anew. He needs to find a way to get them out. His friend is fine. Quiet. I do not mind him and in turn he allows me to be. I have kept the apartment stocked with more food now and coffee. Menders seems to need coffee or tea to survive all they do. Tyleril’s friend hides secrets of his own, but we have an unspoken and silent agreement not to pry into the other to much.
He is quiet. Reassuring as it is to hear the sound of his limping. The few days of the week that I stay at my apartment now I do not worry as much over sleep. Ensuring the windows and door is blocked, spelled, and can withstand attacks. Having someone else there is an assurance that should the undead come again I will hear it.
You left the Isle after you had thrown away my offering to the dead,snapped open your umbrella when the rain began to pour. You were not paying attention to the rooftop of the three story mansion you passed. I sat on top of the roof and this time, I let you go. You disappeared in sheets of rain and thunder. When you were well and truly gone I slipped off the roof and blinked to the ground. I stay here now. Inside dust and old memories fill the home. A family used to be here but the Scourge took them to, just like they took away our brother. I see the family portraits on the walls, left for time and dust to consume.
I leave them offerings. It is not my house and the man I sleep with in of it is someone dear to them. I leave coins and offerings of flowers and incense. It has tempted me many times to find their bedrooms and see what they were like. But, like the house it is also not my room so I abstain. I have cleaned the kitchen and the hallway, the bedroom and the rest of the areas that are frequently used. Barely three rooms, four if the hallway and bathroom count. Sometimes i come here early or stay while he leaves. It’s nice to see the door open and his scowling rain soaked form comes into the house. He irritates me, I irritate him. We go back and forth. Sometimes he eases up and falls into silence and other times it ends with dinner forgotten.
I look forward to this to much and the days I am not there I miss the reassurance someone is watching. Strange isn’t it? Sometimes I feel happy and not annoyed to see him.
I have been considering. I don’t think you’ll talk to me again. I don’t want to spend time watching you and knowing that either. So that time was the last. I like this ruined house with it’s guardian- the tall and crumbling knight. I like my apartment with the limping mender. If this is what it is to be a monster than I will take it.
You will never get this letter before I burn it. But I hope you know I’ve never once wished you ill. I hope wherever you end up you will do well. Maybe someday we can speak without rancor. Maybe. But until then I will stop pretending and accept reality for what it is.
A small box of food filled with steak, garlic and other herbs for food seasoning, already packed away and a small jar filled with a reddish- orange paste that’s left on Thallus’s kitchen counter. A note is left atop the counter.
Thallus,
I got food and proper seasonings. You’ll notice there’s garlic and other dry things to eat with. Don’t throw them away and put the meat in the icebox. I can get potatoes or something and we’ll make something nice for dinner.
The jar has heating cream for your muscles. With all the yelling you do at the recruits you’re not far from straining something. I don’t celebrate this stupid holiday but it’ll be nice to get an evening off.
“Y-you’ll be fine?” It had been a decade since she had fought in battle. A real battle and the worry for her health was already etched on the tall mender’s face.
“Me?” She let her lips pull upwards into a confident smirk. “Tyleril, please. When was the last time I told you I would die?”
He shook his head and she could smell the incense he was so fond of burning. It clung to his clothes as much as the smell of armor polish and smithy smoke. “You haven’t yet. But I-” Windsong waved her hand, dismissing his words before he could finish. “You’re going to the main gate aren’t you? Better get going. I have demons to kill.” Windsong didn’t believe in the Light, she didn’t care for it. But she stood still as Tyleril prayed a blessing over her anyway. “Stop caring so much- you’ll hurt yourself dumbass.”
But Tyleril didn’t respond and Windsong let her smile drop as the mender walked away. The urge to see whether he would manage to survive the battle was strong- but she dismissed it. If the Light really gave a damn then it would take the time to help Tyleril survive.
They were all gears in a machine. Running off to save one person would affect every other cog. She ran her tongue over her lips, tasting the lipstick. It drew a grin from her as she strode towards where her army was. “Let’s see if I manage to make it.”
‘FOR QUEL’THALAS’
Despite the care her hair had fallen free of the ties that bound it and had been soaked in sweat. It ran down her face, making her eyes and the bleeding cuts sting like tiny rattlesnake bites. All around her was nothing but a whirlwind of color and motion, the countless infinite possibilities of what they could, would, maybe and might-do. She saw so much, so many possibilities. Such precious short time to react, even shorter with the magisters that were under her command, forcing her to snap out orders. To many were going to die- she would at least try to keep her own safe.
With every pant that escaped her lips, she could taste smoke from the air that mixed with the bitter taste of her own blood. The deafening sound of her own heartbeat and blood rushing in her ears beat out a stubborn refusal to die. It wasn’t loud enough to drown out her allies, their cries of ‘Lok’tar ogar’ and Quel’thalas!’ intermixed with the sound of injured beasts screaming in pain, and the loud cracking thunder of magic from those beneath her command.
Pain from strained muscles and bleeding cuts barely registered, drowned out by the consuming throbbing ache from over use of her divining spell. The countless moving images she saw everywhere threatened to overwhelm her when she looked at others for to long. The magisters under her command spat out fire and ice, burnt flesh filling her nostrils as frozen blood clung to her clothes.The scent of blood mixed with the smell of smoke, bile, and fear, carried between the clashing bodies of the Sunguard’s army. Scarlet liquid bled from foe and ally alike, soaking the earth.
Death came from the sky on swift wings, praetorian lances, and the dangerous fel hounds. But through the countless possibilities that assaulted her eyes and mind she clung onto one. Victory. Even as physical and magical exhaustion took its toll, blurring the lines between reality and possibility she held onto that image.
‘Going Home’
Victory came.
It came long after her knees has first met the muddy ground and her remaining Magister was carried in her arms to the closest help. They would suffer through their broken leg and his face as Windsong carried him was stoic, head held high as she set him by the tent.
Limping she turned to look up at the Dawnspire, every breath burning her throat. The thickly embroidered cloth was soaked with mud and blood that had dried, clinging to her skin. When she swallowed she could taste the blood in the air, mixed with sorrow. Rather than look back at the Dawnspire or the remaining magister from her group she turned to stare in the direction of Silvermoon.
Exhaustion dulled the pain of sprained muscles and shallow cuts, helped her ignore the bone dry rasp that escaped her throat. The – Dawnspire, was it the Dawnspire? It was hard to see how much damage had been done. Somehow she was stuck inside of herself, viewing the world from somewhere deep inside. Her movements were so slow compared to everyone else.
The sounds of orders being snapped, boots on marble, and worried chatter were distant in her ears. Her allies moved around her as if their speed was enchaned by magic while she moved through cold mud. A portal came into sight as she rounded a corner, bright and inviting in her sight.
Thallus.
The vivid scowl in her mind was all that her body seemed to need to move. Thallus would be asleep by now. or would be be awake? Her head spun as her hands began to move, scraping deep inside of her whatever mana she couldn’t afford to spare, it made her soul tear and bleed as the world spun and disappeared in white light.
“Even monsters have a handful of things and memories from which they seek comfort.”
Her leg burned, the scab refusing to quite scab over. Her thigh was an aching mass of pain that she was certain stemmed from the herb paste on it to burn away infection and the stitched cut across her stomach made breathing painful. Even wearing full makeup and long-sleeved robes that went from her neck to her ankles she couldn’t hide the bad limp that came with the pain. The dagger hadn’t hit the bone but had slide into flesh. The back alley mender in Murder’s row had seen worse and asked her no questions when she had called. Quietly tended the wound and took coin for his silence before leaving.
So she floated everywhere on the disc. Just small enough to fit on her rear it was a perfect cover. A flippant attitude and sarcasm deflected questions about why she was floating around. Enchanting work could be done at home- she had back-up scrolls planned to use. It didn’t make the day any better to come back to her Magister and lie through her teeth again. But no more murders had occurred. There was countless more hours to be spent but she was certain nothing would lead back to a destroyed building slowly being covered by the encroaching woods.
‘I can get you a new body.’ She had told Alexander as if it was not problem. And now, it looked as if nothing was wrong. Perfect. It was still a few weeks before they returned. Enough time to try and tweak the corpse more to fit what she wanted. Her sister hadn’t contacted her in weeks- almost two months by now. She wasn’t certain if she ever would do so frequently again. But, Windsong had consoled herself with the thought that she didn’t need anyone to be her other half. It almost felt like she wasn’t lying to herself, burying the truth beneath the lies.
Maybe her twin would never contact her again and the relationship they had shared was dead with no chance of getting it back again. Windsong had been sad, but only very briefly. With Alexander’s new body safely in stasis it was back to the normal schedule. She decided to head to the training yard to hover next to Thallus as he oversaw initiates. It gave her time to organize her thoughts as she hovered, enjoying some form of company, even if her own company was unwanted.
“Thallus,” She tugged out a teacup from her bag. A dainty teacup covered in stars that she had bought from a local coffee shop. “I brought you a small coffee this week. Look at the cute ceramic cup- it has stars.”
“…that it does.”
“It’s cute. If you go to the coffee shop they even have teapot like it. DId you want it?” She offered the teacup with her right hand. Her good side, less hindered by the pain from her hip. Though her movements were still a bit slow.
“Sure.” He held the teacup in his hands. It was almost ridiculous to see it as he continued to work. The large blood knight with the resting bitch face holding a dainty star covered teacup. Not the worst day but when she left she was far more cheered up at the sight of Thallus holding the teacup.
“She finally understood why the monsters in the Forest always seemed to smile. Beasts only bared their teeth as a warning before they attack.” ― Emory R. Frie, Enchanted Forest
They had been growing apart for years. Had been if Windsong was willing to be honest with herself. They shared the exact same name, face and sense of humor- they used to wear the same clothes and walk through the city. They tended the same bar and kept the other safe after the Scourge ran through Quel’thalas like the plague. But after… after her twin had slowly started to change more. She had been for decades, not finding the same jokes as funny or willing to spend time together out of work.
But when Windsong came back from Northrend she couldn’t deny her twin was a different person any longer. A part of WIndsong that had grown distant and fell away, coming back to her only with much coaxing on her end. It was unsurprising one day, coming to their shared apartment and her twin was standing in the living room with her bags packed.
What choice did she have? She let her go.
“I- I just don’t think Thallus wants company.” Tyleril had told Windsong as they observed the Blood Knights and the initiates train. “Didn’t he ye-yell and ask what you wanted?” Standing besides her and smelling of sweat and whatever rich masculine smell made up his soap. “Of course he wants company. Everybody wants company Tyleril.” The face of disbelief Tyleril gave her was almost surprising. “I think if someone wants to be left alone then even if they do need friends you should-”
She interrupted, waving her hand. “Everyone needs someone- no sentient can live alone and all that. Besides if he tells me to ‘fuck off’ then I will. I’m not rude Ty.” But only if he said fuck off.
“Oh. I- I suppose it’s ok then. As long as you respect his wishes.” With that Tyleril looked over the training yard to peer at Thallus. Windsong could spot his short cropped auburn hair easily amid the crowd of initiates.
“Pick that shield up Initiate! The next time you fail to block that strike don’t come back bitching if you lose an arm!” Wearing the reds and blacks of his order Thallus stepped between initiates, watching them with a critical eye and a resting angry face. As they watch his intense fel green eyes snapped to another initiate and his voice echoed across the courtyard. Tyleril turned towards Windsong. “If you really want to be his friend and will leave him alone if he asked you to then I think it’s a great idea.” His smile had returned and the familiar bright smile appeared. He didn’t have many other comments on Thallus beyond he seemed nice- which was Tyleril’s generic response for everyone who showed something else the smallest shred of kindness.
If anyone was a doormat for friendship it was Tyleril. WIndsong wasn’t sure it was a thing but if there was Tyleril was that person.
“I think I’m going to go back to harass him.” As much as she liked Tyleril there was a particular fun to Thallus being annoyed at her existence. It reminded her of her twin- someone who was like a rock in the sea of existence. Thallus might not enjoy her presence or even why she chose to visit him weekly.
But she would continue to do so. It was a relief to find someone who felt like a rock that she could tether herself to.
A short reprieve before she went elsewhere.
“That initiate has a loose rock they hide change under.” Windsong pointed at an intiate in the training yard as she stepped to stand next to Thallus. His eyes narrowed at her. Wearing clothing that was on the ragged side and looking a touch thinner than the rest the initiate continued to practice, paying nothing any attention beyond the target dummy they practiced with. “That initiate comes from a rather poor off family that has yet to reclaim any money from the Fall.” Was Thallus’s response.
In a display of magic she stepped back and sat down on a nonexistant chair, appearing to sit on nothing at all. Something was there, of course, a thin disc conjured by magic and hidden by her robes. "You should tell them to use a bank before someone finds the rock.“ She remarked lightly, leaning back in her invisible seat. Her favorite divining crystal was a well polished flat stone the size of her palm and she began to toy with it. "That initiate has a hidden bank account that will be handed over to him when he earns the rank of Knight. No one will touch that rock.” There was a silent ‘or I’ll break their wrists’ after that followed his words.
If it was her she would have taught the initiate how to open a bank account or how to properly exact revenge. She looked over to Thallus with a grin. “Aren’t you kind? Then I would be at that rock Friday at six thirty five in the morning.” He didn’t question her. Instead there was a subtle movement as he shifted and he only gave her a short response.
“Noted.”
Thallus didn’t say anything more when she was there. He gave an occasional bellow at an initiate for something or the other. Windsong simply sat there and enjoyed the company. Even if she was unwanted it was nice. She wasn’t going to admit she was lonely. After enough time had passed she looked upwards and squinted. “Oh, look at the time.” She waves at Thallus, moving close enough that he could smell the incense that clung to her clothes. “I’ll see you next week! I can’t believe I forgot the time!” Her voice was saccharine as she waved at Thallas. His lips twitched but if he said a goodbye she didn’t hear it.
Tyleril Silversword 
You must be logged in to post a comment.