#also i took Lace with me to the necropolis again and she is literally the cutest!!! my girly is trying to be supportive and not weirded out

[a-whiff-of-a-dream]

Husband acquired!!

[velerodra-valesinger]

Long Division

Vel’s body was still weak, and recovering slowly.   It was the type of recovery that took time.  Even more time due to the energy she’d been expending to maintain her bond with Mira.   The druidess was physically well, but her psyche was shattered.   Mira had become dependent on Vel’s presence.   An unforeseen complication.  

Vel didn’t know much about Mira, she had tried to peer into the woman’s memories - but refused to delve if she sensed resistance, not wanting to inflict more damage to an already broken mind.   At times, she had to, find a safe place for Mira to lurk, preferably outdoors and away from any commotion.   Then she could focus her energies on her own body.   Unless the feral cat found some cause for terror (which did not take much), at which point Vel's focus would shift towards her again.   She longed to find a nice field for her to roam peacefully in.   Perhaps that would keep her calmer while the monk was unable to play an active role in Mira’s existence.  

Despite the amount of energy spent towards maintaining Mira, she had managed to improve her own condition as well.   She had altered her dietary habits, ensuring proper nutrition.   She needed to gain some weight back.   As it stood, she was underweight.   Her muscles had also wasted away, along with her range of motion.   She was out of shape.   In every way.   But she was beginning to rehabilitate.   And for the most part she was resisting the urge to push herself.  

Pandaria was a nice backdrop for this.   It reminded her of when she first became a monk.   And living in a house inherited from her Master, made it feel as if the late Pandaren was still with her.   Still teaching her.

Some days were slower than others.   She tended to the house, which was modest in size, but had been in desperate need of dusting and organizing.   And then reorganizing.  

More daunting were the grounds outside of the house, which were sprawling.   Her Master kept livestock, his tigers, a cloud serpent, cranes, turtles and a pond for koi.    There was enough land for his creatures to roam.   But it had become an overgrown mess.    Little gardens had become riddled with weeds.   Some trees had grown far too large.   She had hired a few Pandaren farmers to assist her with the land.   She tended to the smaller gardens herself.   It was light work.   And she enjoyed the fresh air.  

A month had passed since her return, and she’d managed to arrange her home back to what it once was.   She still leaned heavily on a staff to walk, but her muscles ached less.   And she was able to start stretching her limbs lightly.  

Running was out of the question.   Even push ups and sit ups were still out of question.  

Her emotional outbursts had declined in frequency.  She felt a general sense of peace.   She did not get to visit the city often, but she enjoyed the few times she had managed to take her walks there.  

Nightmares still interrupted her sleep, but she was learning to deal with them.   For once, Vel let all of her influences fade away, and she focused on herself.   She focused on her recovery.   She ignored what she had been through.   She ignored the parts of her that felt defeated, and lost.   The parts of her that wanted nothing more than to lash out at the world recklessly.   The parts of her that viewed herself as a remnant left on Azeroth by the Legion.  

She’d ignored all the bitterness.  

She was more and more finding herself at peace.   She was more and more the Vel her Master had forged - controlled, disciplined, calm, and (mostly) patient.   Less and less did she feel as if she was the Vel her mother had reforged - insecure, unpredictable, manipulative, possessive, clever and always teetering on the precipice of madness.      

She should have known better. To ignore part of herself.

The chill of Northrend pricked at the monkette’s pale skin.   She stared into familiar azure eyes atop a spire in En’kilah.   The part of herself she had ignored, grew tired of being ignored.  None of the feeling she ignored were resolved, they were just left to fester.   And when the parts of herself she’d pretended did not exist could no longer could remain part of the whole, they turned to the creature she thought might be able to comfort her.   To relate to her.  

A trip to Northrend in her condition was foolish.   Near suicidal.   Yet, she’d made the trip.   Slowing the recovery of the other parts of herself that had been doing so well.   She leeched energy away from the monk that had refused to acknowledge the darkness inside herself.   And her darkness took its own shape.   She was divided.   Literally and figuratively.  

She knelt before the one she had come for and she was greeted with warmth atop the frigid spire.

Aria was an observant creature. She watched, in stone like patience. Her mind was a far busier place. Not a movement or sound from her as the Monk knelt, only watching with a keen awareness. The wind howled, and whipped around them, blasting worn stone and causing ice and snow to gather in corners. After a few moments ticked by, dark lips parted. Her echoed voice was, as always, delicately soft. Somehow still rising above, or simply becoming part of the under current of consistent wind. "It is a great tragedy." She began gently. "To see the haunted so lost. You are welcome in this place, my Wraith. I have learned much in my time, the chief among them, not everyone with a beating heart, is alive."

Vel almost let out a chuckle as she forced herself to her feet. She grasped for the clunky wooden staff at her back and shifted her weight onto it.    Well, what weight there was to lean, she was a fraction of herself.    "At least I am a great something, yea? Even if it's a tragedy."    she shook her head, "I'm not being literal..." she noted, anticipating her humor to be lost in the howling winds.    

From the top of the spire Vel was taken out of the cold and into the necropolis of Naxxarar.   Words were exchanged.   Vel could entrust Aria with her story, and she did.  Within those walls, Death had been kind to her.  Helpful.   Understanding.   Instructive.   Supportive.   All in such a short span of time.    

Then, Aria drew her close and tempted her.   She offered to remake her.  

And in those moments, Vel was neither her mother’s creation nor her Master’s student.   She was the remainder of yet another internal division.   Something that was uncertain, but something that found comfort so close to Death.  Parts of her that had long been quiet were starting to push aside the less certain.    

It all came down to a simple question.    

"Do you wish to be more?"

Vel nodded,  "I must be."   she paused, careful to add, "Not...  right now...   but - I think...   soon."

Aria blinked, looking down at Vel. "Why... would you wish to postpone, being more? What logic is there in this pain you feel? In recounting how others betrayed or harmed you?"   Her head shook a bit, as if refusing any answer that may come preemptively.

Though Vel had answers to those questions, thoughts - many of them, clarifications and justifications - none escaped her lips.    

Aria's hand rose, starting at Vel's hip, to slide up leather carefully. Rounding to the Monk's stomach and to drag her cool touch up and over her chest and soon, seeking a light grip of the other's neck. "I could remake you." Her soft voice, a gentle and low whisper, dark lips brushing gently against the lobe of Vel's ear as her voice seemed to layer a couple more time, growing both more sinister and at the same time, remaining calm. "You would be you, but reborn, unscarred, untarnish, strong, capable, belonging to not only to but with me. With all of Death, with every Monster and every forgotten creature."   She wasn't trying to hold Vel around the throat but kept her palm over her chest, and fingers curled to follow the slender neck. Her own armored form moving slightly to press to Vel's side. "There is nothing to be afraid of and everything to gain... I wish for your consent but it is not required."

It was at that point, Vel began to accept that she would not leave Naxxanar unchanged.    Uncertainty plagued her.   Aria likely could hear the reservation in her voice.   How much that mattered to the Knight, was hard to say.

"I intend for you to remake me...   I will not resist. I will stay here - with you. Just let me get used to the notion of being - reborn. I was reborn once. I was told I was part of something. That route - didn't go so well. This, may be different... but let me wrap my mind around it. I am not going anywhere."    

Aria shook her head slightly  "You were lied to and molded by corruptors, by beasts... you believed what you were told as many have and all have found their gods to be false. That was no a rebirth it was an execution." The frost fire in her eyes flicking to life in orbs as she stared back at Vel intensely. "You will stay."   The words very firm and laced with meaning. 

Both hands found the Monk's hips, seeking to grip at the slight curve tightly. She neared, ever closer, until petite nose tips brushed and lips were a whisper from doing the same.  However, instead of a cool press, a deep amethyst smoke abruptly bubbled up and poured out from between the Necromancer's lips and it's direction was very specifically, aimed within Vel's mouth.  

It was only a blink of time, over as it began but visceral and physically jarring. Aria knew it was going to happen so she had that benefit and the wherewithal to speak, a slight rasp to echoed words. "... a gift."

While one side of her struggled to pluck weeds from her gardens, another side of her awoke in an oversized piece of furniture, and felt a dizzying swell of power surging through her body.  

Though, she was pleased to be able to be comfortable, she could not help but wonder why she was still alive.  

The threads that wove together to form the tapestry known as ‘Vel’ shifted, weaving and unweaving from one another, bouncing between two distinct locations.   The demonic influences on her soul, did not warn the rest of the monk, about what the other parts of her were doing.   Where she was, and Vel was too weak, in this form, to realize that she was divided at all.   Especially given the focus she’d been allocating to Mira.  

In Northrend, the blonde simply waited.   She had said she would not leave.   She did not intend to leave until she was more.

Of course, she was now guilty of the same sin as her distant counterpart had been.

She should have known better. To ignore part of herself.

Her mother’s daughter, the demonic essences that had twisted her soul had left part of Vel to embrace her end.   It would be useful, they reasoned.  Kill off part of her, and it would be easier to regain control of the other.    Whatever Aria managed to create, would be - in some manner - connected to the living monk.   Though, it was hard to predict how it would all play out.    The demonic influences still craved the Ascension she’d been assured she would attain by the woman she once called her mother.   The whispering of the serpentine threads, were ignored by the recovering monk.

It was cyclical, she suppressed contradictions in her personality, to a point where they reached such extremes, the only resolution was some sort of division.  

However this was different.  Normally the threads all returned to one being, perhaps arranged differently, but always - one body.   Should Death claim her in Northrend, it would surely have an affect on her in Pandaria.   And possibly even on Mira by extension.  

And Vel, had no idea it was coming.  

If only she listened to the parts of herself she preferred to pretend didn’t exist.   She’d have heard them plotting.   They wanted this.  

Unlike previous divisions, this one - would be permanent.  

@thefrozenheart, @anorasmira (this is myself  - i dunno why I’m tagging)