#lokitan

[jackarychaoti]

DWC2021-10 - Feast/Sleepless

- [ MUSIC ] -

“I’m dying, Jackary.”

The words caught the beast off guard as he strolled through the quiet forest of Teldrassil, barefoot and allowing his ever-present trail of flowers to flow in his wake. Next to the tall blond had been a far shorter elf-shaped man, armed to the teeth in weaponry and dressed in form-fitting leather. While they were a stark contrast to one another, the words alone had drawn Jackary to a standstill.

“I... What?”

It was right after a family feast, right after a great speech had been given about coming changes and freedom and how deeply the rogue appreciated the family he had built over the years. The pair had been laughing together, reminiscing about the past... And suddenly…

Suddenly it made sense.

“Don’t fuck around with me like that, Lok’,” Jack couldn’t help but awkwardly laugh as if it was some stupid joke that his cousin had decided to drop. If he, in his early life, was a sigil of life, his best friend was the sigil of death. They complimented each other, they went everywhere together. Of all things, Lokitan was the reason Jack wound up in Azeroth in the first place.

“I wish I could,” Loki hummed, slowing to a standstill where he could finally light a cigarette he’d fetched and drew in a deep inhale, calming the nerves that were rising in the conversation at hand.”I am fadin’ away and I can feel it, won’t be long now.”

Jack stood silently in disbelief, the reason they had gone walking through an Alliance claimed territory wasn’t to simply ruffle some feathers, it was because it was where their journey had begun together. It was made clear when Jack looked anywhere but at his cousin, realizing he was in the near exact spot he’d appeared in his own crash landing.

‘So, what? You brought me out here to--”

“To say goodbye, yeah.” Cutting off the emerald, Lokitan lifted a crimson eye upward, staring for a long moment. He gave a small smirk. “It’ll be alright, you’ll be fine.”

Would he?

Claws pushed through Jack's long, unruly locks of hair to pull them back and up into a ponytail, keeping the weighted tresses from his face while it gave him time to think, “So just like that, you’re… You’re gone then. When--?” As he questioned just how long Lokitan had left, when he turned to face his cousin, he could already see parts of the rogue turning brittle, fluttering away in the faint, cool breeze around them like nothing more than ash.

“We have outstayed our welcome, you and I.” Lokitan drew in another slow inhale of his cigarette, pondering over what he wanted his final words to be. “We’ve also been through a lot, ever since we were little. We always got into so much shit, heh...” The shadowed dragon smirked to himself, baring a set of fangs in amusement. Bittersweet really, that it was to be Jackary he spent his final moments with when it had also been Jack that helped bring him into the world to cause chaos.

“Do you have any regrets…?” Jack asked quietly, finding himself fidgeting with his own fingers.

“A few,” Loki replied rather abruptly, wetting his lips while his vision raised to look up at the trees above, noting the stars beyond the greenery. “I regret not coming sooner to help you that night, I regret you binding your wings to service. I regret falling in love…” He trailed off at that point, seeming less inclined to want to discuss it.

Jack frowned further, still attempting to wrap his head around what was happening, and yet there he stood, speaking casually with the man that may as well have been his own brother, they were of flesh and blood. Two princes that ran away from home and carried their heritage only by name. Chaoti meant nothing in Azeroth. Jaden and Heran meant nothing, either. They were just names, something no one even blinked at. And of all of the travels the two had been through, the endless adventures or bickering or laughter or beauty or horror, suddenly it was just… ending.

Just like that.

Everything had an ending, certainly, but…

“Don’t leave me…”

Lokitan barked out a bout of laughter at that, smiling as he glanced over to Jackary, though he could see just how much the Emerald was hurting. Such caused that smile to falter. “I can’t stay…”

“You can....” Jack furrowed, shaking his head a bit before throwing his hand out to the side. “You of all people can stay! You can’t leave me..! YOU CAN’T LEAVE ME, YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!” The voice echoed through the quiet trees, ruffling the feathers of a few birds that flitted away, the echo faded soon after.

“Jackary... Don’t make this harder than it is.”

“No! Fuck you! Fuck you,” Jack inhaled a bit, eyes narrowed when the unnatural sting formed in their corners. Each motion became a pacing step back and forth, his hair swayed behind him. Flowers and grass only further grew outward from his position only to die once close enough to the stand-still rogue. “You brought me here. We came here together, I came here for YOU, WITH YOU! We promised each other we’d never leave one another’s side, you fucking LIAR! You promised, Lokitan Jaden! YOU PROMISED ME!”

Watching the Emerald struggle with anything brought on the protective nature of the small Infinite. Through the beast’s rapidly increased pacing, a hand reached over to suddenly grab Jack’s arm to yank him over and downward into a tight hug.

Loki never hugged anyone.

“Jackary…” He whispered softly, fondly in the captured drake’s ear. “You have been the only one in our family, our past, or history that has ever shown me kindness and love. You’ve had endless patience, you’ve also been a complete fuckwit and you deserve that scar on your chin for what you did, but… You’re going to be okay. You’re going to move forward from this and you will find a new life, a new love, and a new family. You will find people you belong to… Beyond our name, beyond our past transgressions…. Someday you’ll forget about the horrors..”

“I don’t want to…” When had Jackary hugged back? When had he been hunching and clinging so tightly that he could hear the groaning echoes of the leather giving way to the grasp? “Please, I’ve had you with me all my life… Please… I need someone to keep me sane, to keep me in check. Please don't go.”

“You’ll find someone who will stand up to you and your bullshit. You’ll find a warm home again. I know this…” Lokitan sank faintly into the larger male’s grip, feeling the weakening sensation growing even more. “I know this because you have an air about you and people will find you addictive to be around. Keep your wings... Keep your wings and soar…”

“Don’t make me stay here alone…” Nails bit into the leathers, though with every passing second, he could feel the tension of a body between his arms begin to wilt and crumble, he couldn’t even look. He couldn’t bring himself to see Lokitan fade away. A man who had saved his life and who had saved him from the horrors of his ex-wife. His best friend.

“I love you, Jackary Heran.”

Those were the final words that escaped before arms found themselves collapsing around nothing but an ash pile of leathers and knives. The weaponry clanked when it hit the forest floor, leaving the black dust to cling to Jackary’s figure.

When had he dropped to his knees?

When had it become so dark?

When had rain gradually washed the ash from his skin?

When had Loki known he was going to die and why hadn’t he told Jackary about it?

Rock after rock, stone after stone, a small, unmarked grave was built, tucked away where no adventurer could find it unless they knew where to look. A sleepless night was spent marking the spot where the rogue had finally fallen.

When had this happened?

When did the memory of it start to fade?

A grave that would be of importance later, but that was for another story.

| - @daily-writing-challenge - |

[jackarychaoti]

DWC2021-15 - Memory/Chase

TW: Blood | Body Horror | Disturbing Images

-[ MUSIC ] -

Insanity.

In Azeroth, it was known as The Madness, The Darkening, the Dragon’s Sickness... The Nightmare. In many worlds, in millions of languages, it had endless names but it always meant the same thing. A corruption, often brought on by nightmarish feelings or situations, that ate the being alive, twisting it into something else entirely. Dragons fell particularly hard to such a toxic curse, especially.

This was no exception.

“DO NOT LET HIM GET INTO THE FOREST, WE’LL FUCKING LOSE HIM FOREVER!!”

Lokitan screamed as a mere handful of the Heran army raced upon war-bred Granondo, a clove-hooved type horse with coiled horns, best used to ram incoming enemies. Terrifyingly fast creatures that feared nothing in the heat of battle and yet they could not quite keep up with the terror streaking through the rotting fields of a dying wasteland and seemed even less inclined to get anywhere near it.

The target they hunted was a slithering creature running on all fours, bones twisted and inhuman with long tendrils of muddied hair, making the thing look even more sickly in the way that it hung over the face. Now and then, piercing silver eyes would dart back to see just how much closer its pursuers had come in the wild hunt, noting the way the warriors had begun to flank it. If only it could reach the edge of the forest, the beast would have a far better tactical advantage and a speed increase, let alone an easier time to attack those that hunted it.

“Loki!” A voice called out and soon a female rider pushed her steed up to the Dread Prince himself, eyes narrowed, glancing over in his direction. Fire blazed all around her, the snowy locks of her hair wild and free as a hellish set of crimson eyes flitted to the dark-haired rogue. “What do we do if it gets to the forest before we can reach him?!”

“You pray to your mother that we take him down before that.”

Chaos.

It was absolute chaos and he had just told her to pray to the deity that created it.

Inch after inch, Lokitan pressed forward, signaling the General’s finest men to continue flanking the beast, heels dug in harder into his skeletal Granondo to push onward and finally close in the distance of the skittering cretin running on all fours. Once close enough, the agile Prince pushed himself to crouch atop the saddle; he lunged, flickering through the very shadows to reappear right on top of the nightmarish beast. He dared not draw a weapon.

Not against this one.

The clashing form was greeted by the muddied, anemic animal twisting itself to bite hard at its would-be attacker, using the momentum to kick Lokitan right off and send him flying. That mere few seconds to protect itself was costing its safety to get into the forest. A loud shrieking cry pierced through the veil of carnage, knowing the chase was quickly coming to an end. Claws grabbed at the deep red mud below, years of war and corpses all around, the thick blood of countless soldiers meshed together with protected soils and painful, bitter rain. The slick surface had the creature try another attempt to break free, slipping the first few steps.

It was so close… The forest was but a hundred yards away.

Lokitan rolled through the slimy fighting ground, catching himself to snag at the beast’s ankle, yanking it back to throw it in the other direction. He was doing all he could to buy the warriors more time to position themselves and close in on the fighting pair.

“It doesn’t have to be this way, Jack.”

Melted silver raised from under the long strands of hair while the beast hunched itself further, a deep snarl and razored fangs revealed themselves in a warning. The aggressive display had Loki push himself to stand and raise his clawed hands, exposing that he was as unarmed as he could possibly be. He stared down at the nightmare-fueled version of his cousin, his best friend who he knew was in so much pain that he had allowed the darkness to consume his heart.

“Look at me, Jackary… I don’t want to hurt you, hn..?”

There was a brief pause and for a moment, the world stood still. Even the droplets of sweat and foul mud froze in place for a fraction of a second while the thing Lokitan referred to as ‘Jackary’ mulled over its choices. Heavy breaths of air pushed out, bellowed in smoke pouring from its twisted jaw that was filled with acidic drool that flopped to the ground in large globs - a clear sign of the beast’s stress.

“Let’s get you home… Let’s get cleaned up…” A leather-clad hand dared to reach for the unholy creation but within a blink of an eye, time sped back up. Teeth snapped at the grasp, claws raised to full-on attack the one being that kept the beast from the forest it was trying to get to.

“FUCKING--!” Loki found himself head to head with the writhing mass of acid-spitting, half-transformed wyrm, a Beast of Insanity that wore a Prince’s crown and who was upsetting the balance of life and death. Without one, there couldn’t truly be another. Every snap of the jowls and swipe of talons was blocked or barely dodged, up until Lokitan lost his footing.

Slipping, he found himself under those wild jaws, hands clasped the wide-open maw above him that threatened to clamp down on his face and bite his skull clean in half. Muscles ached, his posture shook from trying to push what was once his peaceful, loving cousin off him. It wasn’t until another bubbling mixture of acid was seen dripping from under the beast’s tongue that the rogue knew he was in deep trouble… He was going to have to hurt the beast or die.

One hand released the mouth and in a split-second decision, the palm shoved up hard to strike at the creature’s jawline, his intensely sharp claws sliced the beast’s right jaw, stunning and pushing it away, jarred in surprise. It left Lokitan with just the smallest leeway to raise his hand up in the air, giving a hidden signal.

The Insanity-addled creature hissed loudly but before it could turn to lunge the last few steps to disappear into the forest and become a haunting ghost, a slough of chains and ropes fell atop it, blanketing the wild creature. The engineered nets implanted themselves into the dirt below, radiating pulsations of electrical charges to stun the captured beast into a horrifying submission. The haunting screams of agony, half-human, half-dragon rang out in a near ear-shattering volume.

Only when it stopped struggling to even stand did the shocking currents of energy cease their barbaric, but effective, handling.

“Are you hurt?” The woman from earlier charged forward, sliding down from her fiery warsteed to help Lokitan up from the wet earth.

“No,” Lokitan spat out, snagging the hand to be hoisted up, wincing when it indeed hurt to put any sort of weight on one of his legs. Glancing down at it, he was sure there was likely a fracture somewhere... But now wasn’t the time to dawdle.

“Well, you’re not dead, dear brother, so…” Musing, she helped at least support the Dark Prince, glancing down at the wheezing, now bleeding beast. “This isn’t curable, you know. When someone falls to the Insanity, they don’t come back.”

“Untrue,” Loki quipped, hobbling over with his sister’s help until he was able to ease down and sit next to the captured animal. A gloved hand reached forward, pushing the black hair from its face to indeed reveal a half transformed Jackary, the silver spiral of his eyes a dead giveaway at the corruption. “There was a Priest once who fought it and contained it. Rumour has it he wanders around with a single spiral eye, hn? Fucked up shit.”

The woman sighed, almost huffing while a hand motioned down to what remained of Jack. “Look at him, Lokitan. Half transformed, his brain isn’t fucking in there anymore. Put the thing out of its misery and let the avatar of Life be passed down elsewhere. It’ll rebirth by tomorrow, save your own ass.”

“No.” Lokitan took a moment to grip the skull before him, pinning the dragon further as a small crimson glow overtook his eyes. “He was never meant to hurt anyone, it was her that drove him to this.”

“Yeah, well, she’s pretty fucking dead, now isn’t she?”

A hand waved the antsy woman off, freeing Lokitan to simply focus on the inner workings of the beast before him. It was a rare trick the Rogue had up his sleeve and normally it was used to delve into someone’s memories, to unlock what terrifies them the most to use it against them… But what if, he thought, what if he could use it in reverse?

Time ticked by, allowing the dark, shadowy tendrils of his own essence to seep into Jackary’s form, filtering through and plucking every little bit of the corruption to neatly gather it within. A simple box was made at first, deep inside the dragon’s brain. Soon it was locked away and chained relentlessly to his psyche. A personality that he could never escape from, one that in time, would briefly show a fraction of itself and be referred to as…

Naga.

“M’sorry…” Loki whispered while he worked, remolding and melding Jackary’s very essence and memories to pull him from an otherwise impossible return. It was an attempt to do this or be forced to kill him and Lokitan wasn’t sure he inwardly had the power to do that. “You were designed to never forget.. But if you always remember, there is no saving you from the corruption that has been planted within you.”

Lokitan frowned, rubbing his thumb slowly, sweetly along Jackary’s forehead, the beast had long since stopped trying to fight back. It was lethargic.

“I am taking this from you, Jackary. This thing that turned you into something you aren’t.” Lokitan cooed, almost fondly at his twisted cousin as each memory leading up to a certain event was plucked and stolen away and yet what Lokitan hadn’t realized was that in making such a small hole in Jack’s memory, it served as an endless void. A slow-drip leak that would cause him to forever forget things after a while. A blessing and a curse in the future, but at that moment, when Lokitan gazed down and saw the beginnings of Peridot return to those eyes, he knew it was the best decision he could have made.

---

Darnath quietly clamped the journal closed with a small squeeze to the spine, the entry had been written in a far different font and form which made him think that perhaps Lokitan had written it instead. But... Where the memory that had been stolen was placed was beyond the Dragonsworn.

Stormy grey pools glanced at the snoozing blond curled against his side. Jack, in an elven form, had been cozying up for a small nap while his Knight read, blissfully unaware of what haunting stories Darnath had been refamiliarizing himself with once more. The Champion glanced to the spine of the journal, noting the number upon it, and raised his vision upward. The book he was really looking for must have been the one right before this… Maybe that one held the answer he was looking for.

| - @daily-writing-challenge - |

[jackarychaoti]

DWC2021-12 Ball/Gravestone

- [ MUSIC ] -

Year after year it was the same thing.

What had once been an unmarked grave had been decorated with a simple gravestone, the only words etched across it had been LOKITAN CHAOTI. A plain-looking decoration, nothing truly fancy, certainly nothing that would garner the attention of anyone who would desecrate it. It was in a peaceful part of Teldrassil, a place that had a beginning, a middle, and an end in several parts of a fated story.

Before it stood Jack and Darnath, hand in hand.

It had become a tradition, something that Jack once first dragged Darnath with and rambled on for an entire evening about Lokitan, lost in alcohol and memories of laughter and tears and the Dragonsworn had smiled through it all each time he got to witness such a frail side of his dragon. It was such a bonding moment each and every time and it had become a simple habit. Once a year, it was a date marked off that they went to the forest to mark several anniversaries in one but it always started with visiting the Infinite’s resting place.

Year after year, yes. But it had become increasingly darker each and every time they went there, the blips of memories that Jack reminisced about were fading until one day… That one fateful day.

“I don’t even know who this is,” Jack admitted quietly under his breath after having been silent for quite some time; he furrowed a bit. “But they have my last name, so… Gotta be important to visit them, right?”

Such words drove a small pang into Darnath’s heart, the steady realization that one day, he and Azurick would suffer the same fate. He, too, would be the most important person in the world - the one Lokitan foretold Jackary of - and still be nothing but a faded memory if time marched on long enough.

“I just feel the need to come here… For someone, I don’t know.” Don’t remember? No, Jack had stopped trying to face his memory loss long ago, the thought was too painful but in his quiet lament, he hadn’t even realized one thing.

Darnath knew and he remembered.

While Jack was asleep, the Knight had poured over the countless diaries and journals the dragon kept, such a vast, extensive, and meticulous library of Jackary’s life story, his knowledge and memories were written in those pages, ones that Jack would never read himself. How could he read something in his own penmanship that he wouldn’t have remembered? It was far too upsetting.

The only thing the Dragonsworn could do was squeeze the hand firmly within his own, turning his attention toward the blond. Jack glanced back in return and smiled, blissful in his ignorance. The dragon even leaned over to nuzzle his cheek at Darnath’s, transferring his scent to his Knight, contentedly so.

“Still, thank you for coming with me, it means a lot.” A soft voice chirped, nearly silenced by a thieving kiss from the demon’s lips.

“Always.” A simple answer, an answer that Darnath often used and Jack took for granted. Though in the gloom realization, the Dragonsworn took the time to think it over - he had recalled reading something about Lokitan, many-a-thing in a particular book. Musing the thought over, Darnath made a mental note to find it later and skim back over the pages. If Jackary couldn’t remember the most pivotal moments of his life, Darnath would remember them for him. That would be his ball and chain.

It had been two weeks before the wedding and it was to be the last time Jackary and Darnath would ever see that grave again.

Just like Jack’s memories, so too would the Tree and grave burn and fade from life.

| - @daily-writing-challenge - @darnath - |

[jackarychaoti]

DWC2021-17 Spellbinding/Disappointment

TW: Blood | Burns | Mild Body Mutilation

- [ MUSIC ] -

Once upon a time…

That’s how all great fantasy stories started, wasn’t it?

Once upon a time in a land far, far away at some indiscernible time. It was a time that Jackary had still been home, when he was young, barely reaching his first century of age. Wild and free and the most carefree of hearts. Trailing behind him wherever his feet touched left blooming flowers in his wake and in the air, his wings were the fastest in all of the land.

Beautiful. Powerful. Agile.

When the Emerald took to the sky there was none faster, none happier to soar. He was in a league all of his own. Dragons were greedy creatures with their own prized possessions that he held above life itself, and his were the translucent wings that gave him true freedom from responsibilities of being heir to a Kingdom he didn’t want to be a part of.

He and Lokitan were young and reckless, they wanted adventure, not the slavery that came with being princes or royalty or even avatars. Two teenagers wanting to play outside, dreaming through their imaginations until they were forced to return home. It was when they grew older that Jack flying through the air was a symbol of hope, a turning tide through battles of war. A beacon of peace and happiness.

Of joy.

“I want you to be my Soulsworn,” Lokitan spoke one night, out upon the balcony of his father’s black castle, forged from the embers of a volcanic mountain in ages past. He had been in on his second glass of wine, his own coronation of becoming a Prince of age and he was spending it with Jackary at his side, both happy and joyous through such a high caliber celebration.

“What? Really?” Jack mused and yet he puffed his chest, beaming with a sense of growing pride. To be a Soulsworn, a trusted Knight, a Kingsglaive, a Dragonsworn and protector… It was the highest rank and honour one of the Military could obtain. Jack should have had his own and yet he never bothered to bond. No one was worthy. Dragons weren’t meant to be Oathsworn to others of their kind but the pair didn’t care.

“Yeah, really,” Lokitan replied, turning to face the blond-haired elven form, staring up at the towering male with a curious gaze. There was but a single problem that came with taking on such a position… “But what would you put up as a sacrifice?”

“Easy, my wings,” Jackary beamed with confidence, glancing out across the breathtaking view of the valleys below, glittering with stardust from the chilled evening air. His attention drifted back to his cousin, fangs bared in his ever-charming, bright grin. “Why not?”

“I was afraid you’d say that,” Loki couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head. “You know that you lose whatever you give your oath on if you break it, right?”

“Are you saying that I would break my oath to you and forsake my wings? Never.”

“Alright then, your wings it is.”

That night, that happy, carefree night was so long ago.

Now, within the bowels of Blackrock Spire, upon one of the chained pillars dangling above the ever-churning lava, Jackary was hunched over and covered in sweat and ash. Blood dribbled down from a head wound, his body ached from the scratches and scuffs bleeding all over his form. Lokitan’s wish before he took Jackary to the tree and simply faded away was but one thing… He asked the Oath be upheld.

Protect them.

Guard them for me, as you did me.

You are my Soulsworn, even in death.

Standing before Jackary had been a Black Drake who had taken one of Lokitan’s so-called adopted family members hostage after he’d been mistreated. They were only in this position because the one who abused the power knew he could smugly get away with it. Jackary would always be there in a blink of an eye, summoned like a fighter into the ring to protect the snobby little brat. It was abuse.

It nearly cost Jack his life, but more importantly, the tiny wretch nearly cost someone else theirs to bail them out yet again. It had been that way for months, every other day the Sindorei cried wolf, picked fights where he simply summoned a dragon to bully those he did wrong into submission.

Pointless.

Jack was exhausted, pushed to the edge of madness, and without Lokitan there, he had begun to wonder just why he was still putting up with this. To stop would mean to lose what he so desperately cherished and yet…

“Help Jack... I’m uh... I’m hurt! This guy is going to kill me!”

The familiar voice, right on cue, echoed through the dragon’s brain, derailing the thoughts that he had been trying to keep to himself. The sound of disappointment, truly one person carried that entire weight. His very soul had given up, he was defeated, delirious, nothing was worth this sort of torture.

Nothing.

Nothing at all.

“I revoke my oath…” He whispered, his voice barely carried over the link all that carried the mark of Chaoti shared, the pained words pushed through dried, cracked lips. He had barely had time to clean himself up from the battle the night before.

“What..?”

“I revoke my oath…” He said it again a bit louder, tilting his head up to the sky slowly as tears pushed out of the corners of his eyes, falling with little warning or care. “I revoke my Oath to Lokitan Chaoti, to the Chaoti Clan. I revoke my name and right to the crest.”

A sudden burning sensation erupted from his shoulder blades, causing Jackary to cry out from the sharp pain, lurching forward to try and brace himself for what was about to happen. This agony would be temporary, he had to tell himself that.

“I forsake my collateral…” In the final words, the hellfire skittered up those wonderful wings that flared out in an attempt to get away from the heat, burning through the membrane and skin, incinerating the bones, ligaments, and joints that carried the beast to any and all freedom he ever wanted. The pain was supposed to be temporary and even the fire that engulfed and destroyed part of himself cauterized the wounds on his back, leaving horrific scars down either side of his spine. The spellbinding chains that had once bound him to a fallen prince now released him without mercy.

The flame swallowed him whole.

His life flashed before his eyes, what few memories he retained, including the night he took the Oath. They melted away as too did his wings.

When the unbinding of his wings had been completed, the shadowy tendrils that made up his Chaoti sigil tattooed into his left forearm erupted, ripping right from the skin as if the skin were simply yanked free, causing another pained scream to rupture from his throat.

Everything went silent.

There, Jackary laid on his side, staring at his bloodied forearm where his family crest had been for thousands of years, covered in the ashes of what once made him the happiest beast to ever roam any galaxy. Everything hurt. His body, his soul, his pride, the guilt was so thick that he couldn’t even swallow to ease his dry throat.

The pain would only be temporary…

The pain would be temporary…

The pain…

Eyes closed in the silence, letting his entire body shut down out of shock until only soft breaths could be heard in the darkness he’d found himself in. Maybe he could have slept through this nightmare and awoken, maybe he could have rested…

Maybe it would have been temporary.

In the end, it never even mattered.

| - @daily-writing-challenge - |

[jackarychaoti]

The Captain.

Staring out into the void darkness of the sky, the Mage sat alone with a bottle of wine and a half pack of cigarettes. He hadn’t smoked in a while, yet tonight seemed needy of the toxins to soothe his mind. It had been nerve-wracking enough to approach Gentil and explain to him that Jack’s life was about to change drastically, but shortly after explaining to the Priest that Azurick and Darnath seemed standoffish and not wanting anything to do with the dragon anymore, Dar had whispered their typical notions of what they considered ‘love’ to each other. Not something anyone else would take correctly, but when Azurick also spoke to him for a brief amount of time, Jack became conflicted.

He was confused, baffled that so many things had changed so drastically and he couldn’t seem to grasp ahold of anything anymore. He didn’t understand mortals, it was clear as day.

“Copper for your thoughts...” a deep voice rumbled from the surrounding night, causing Jackary to come back to life and flick his cigarette, ashing away the burned remains.

“Just lost in them, as usual.” Jack admitted, pulling the cigarette to his mouth to take a slow, steady drag. “What brings the great and powerful Lokitan to my humble presence?” he teased, flitting his vision to finally face the Rogue within the doorway.

“Antulien came into the Garrison screaming like a madman about you sailing off through the seas with a blind pirate.”

“Captain,” Jack corrected, exhaling the rest of the smoke. “Blind Captain.”

“... Even worse.” A sigh escaped the masked lips while the lithe frame leaned against the doorway, one leg crossed over the other in a casual stance, comfortable in his own positioning. “Is something wrong, Jack? I know you’re spontaneous, but even this is left field.”

“I wanted a new aspect of my life, tired of being a city pet. I missed the adventures of being outside, the excitement of going into the unknown with a team.”

“Why did you pick him, then? Why a man who cannot see the sea?”

Jackary thought about the question for a long moment, wetting his lips smoothly until a sip of the wine was taken from the short glass clasped within his fingertips. “Do you honestly want to know why I chose him out of all of the Pirate Captains I met in a single night?”

“Entertain me with the answer, hn..?”

“You see, Kit...” Jackary sat up slowly, setting the wine down only to ash his cigarette again. “When they were all having their squabbles  instead of working together, I watched how all of them acted and reacted towards each other. This guy walked away from the bullshit, he didn’t want the drama of getting himself or his crew involved in a sudden trial.”

The cigarette was put to his lips again before it was delicately placed between them, allowing it to bounce with each word he spoke after. “They took several cheap shots at the man. His vision, or lack thereof... his crew, his boat, his debt... And do you know what he did?”

“Kill them all and won a dragon over out of awkward chivalry?”

“He didn’t do shit.” came an exhale that bellowed with a breath of smoke. “He brushed it off as if it was nothing, as if they were nothing. When the others insulted each other, it riled them up but this Captain? He wouldn’t take it. All things considering, you’d think he’d be at a handicap, especially his situation with his odd vision... But he can still see, he can still sense it. He didn’t fall into a greedy, petty fight because a bunch of others of his same rank took a few cheap shots at his expense.”

Staring at Jack for a long moment, Loki allowed himself to process the logic that was filling his head and with a sigh, his head shook slowly. “That’s it? Really? A man gets insulted and walks away, winning a dragon because of it?”

“Who better of a Captain deserves something like you and me on his crew than the man who can’t see what I am and who isn’t petty enough to be dragged into worthless fights? What better gift does the sea give than a dragon to the Captain that deserves such a seeing eye dog? I thought he handled himself beautifully, so I spoke to him and now here we are. He had a vague idea of what I am thanks to his lil’ bag-o-bones Kurtis and he didn’t turn me away. Neither of them did... I’m sure they likely have their reservations, it’s only to be expected.”

“... You’re honestly going to defend a Pirate Captain.”

“The ship’s mine,” Jack teased, only half-assed jokingly considering the down payment that was placed to start the crew at an even amount. “In all reality, maybe I just miss serving someone... Or maybe I’ve found someone who may be worth it. Time will tell.” finally relinquishing the cigarette, it was pushed down into the ground firmly, snuffing out the last of the burning embers.

“Time, hn?”

“You see a man’s true colours during the worst of a situation. He may think that I have to prove myself, my usefulness and my loyalties to him, but I don’t think he realizes that day after tomorrow? He proves that he deserves an Emerald under his command.”

| - kurel-andiel - |

[jackarychaoti]

The Heat.

The night had been long and hard, one event lead to another until Jack found himself within familiar, desired company. The air was cool around the two figures while he gazed down at the smaller form... Their eyes met. Jackary's ear twitched when his companion spoke, a soft 'please' left their lips, which dilated the dragon's eyes from such a heated command.

Hours had gone by and with little foreplay, Jackary was hunched over, struggling for any type of breath his burning chest would accept in offering. Lips stayed parted, igniting the cold air into heat the moment it was pulled in by strained lungs. Each panting groan of frustration exhaled lingered in the cold air of the Ridge around them.

"Harder, Jack..."

Fangs bared at the voice in which he pushed forward even more, his muscles writhed and flexed in perfect rhythm, the flawless design of any person's male fantasy. The toned frame rocked, driving forward with slow, hard presses of his form. The tanned, bare skin glistened within the night's moon-touched light, small beads of sweat trickled down every curve of his body. He could barely control his sore, heated soul anymore.

"That's it! Harder, Jack! Harder!"

The voice forced Jackary's eyes to tightly close from the sting of salty sweat gathering upon his brow, a droplet slid down the very bridge of his nose and fell upon the flesh below. His hair was soaked, naturally spiked with sweat of being grabbed and pushed back; tendrils of it still stuck to the frame of his face.

"I can't... Hold on much longer..!" The Mage's voice strained through failing vocals, arching his body to buck his lower pelvis further, delving all of his hidden weight into it. Skin reddened from the clash of working heat and the frozen snow that drifted down upon the nude skin, the most muffled of groans finally escaped through clenched, bared fangs.

"Almost there!"

A whine of defiance escaped Jackary's throat, the guttural noise drove him to push even harder. The blond tilted his head back slightly with a loud yell, the near roar echoed along the snow-laced rocks, sounding out his struggles. "Come on.... Come on come on baby, just a bit more..." He hissed under his breath, offering another rough buck of his entire frame forward. The friction of resistance was almost too much to handle.

"YES! RIGHT THERE! RIGHT THERE!"

With a sigh of wilted relief, Jack sank down from his hunched position and slumped into the snow below, his back pressed hard to the mass of rock he had just helped push half way across the damned Garrison. His scarred forearm lifted to wipe along his brow, the sweat gathered further and puddled down his skin, muscles pulsed in a quiet appreciation for no longer being forced to be used, welcoming the relaxation.

A small figure hopped down from the perch he had been on and soon sat next to the Mage, Lokitan glanced up at his cousin with a hidden smirk. "Thanks." He remarked, resting himself against the jagged mass behind him.

"You called me... All the way... To fuckin' Frostfire.... To move a rock?!" He panted, whining at his cousin in the most pathetic of manners. The silver-clasped ear wilted in disbelief, however once he looked around the Garrison a moment to assure how much more room the boulder gave them and all the new protection of the dragon's lair had, he could somewhat understand.

"Yeah, you've got the most muscle of the family, Jackalope." Loki admitted, lifting a set of talons to pat them ever so sweetly on a bare shoulder, assuring not to touch anywhere near the blazing scars that remained littered against the Emerald's back. "You seem like you got a lot on your mind, though. Unless you're just gettin' flabby from all those cupcakes you've been puttin' away, hn?"

"I'm not getting fat, you dick." Jack mumbled again, finally swaying a hand up with little effort to highfive the Rogue in a half-assed, limp manner.

"Want to talk about it?"

"Sure."

[jackarychaoti]

The Understanding.

As Jackary stood there in a dumbfounded stare, his eyes met the single crimson optic, the look on the Mage's face must have been priceless.

"L....Lo..." He tried, his words soon failed him as if he had just seen some sort of apparition, a ghost of someone long since gone.

"Ki, yes." the Rogue coaxed, smirking from behind the mask that hid away the rest of his face. Arms unfolded from the toned physique before he began to appoach, closing the distance between himself at his cousin.

"Where have you been?! Where were you?! We needed you..!" Jack exclaimed with a thousand questions ready to pour from his mouth. His heart grew heavy and relieved all at the same time, curious, angry and confused all the while.

"I've been working with the Talon King and the Arakkoa for a few months now. I've had to do a lot of spy work, infiltrating and all that shit." Lokitan finally confirmed his location, waving a deadly set of black claws towards his right bicep. "I silenced my mark so that no one could come looking and blow my cover. Forgive me."

"Aeli has been worried SICK about you! You've missed everything! We needed you through the torment!"

"Come on, Jack... I fell to a Sha in Pandaria... What makes you think I wouldn't have taken up those whispers and promise for power? Were you going to stop me if I turned? Surely not."

Jackary's shoulders slumped in defeat at the words, knowing they were quite true. A soft whine escaped him soon after, his single ear flopped back. "Doesn't mean we don't miss you..."

"I miss you all too, I assure you. I can only assume the pain people are going through with everything lately, it's made me feel quite guilty that I cannot be there for them or even you." Finally close enough, Loki's hand reached up to grip firmly onto Jack's shoulder, jarring him slightly in a gentle shake. "You're all family, no matter how much we all fight."

"At least write a god damn letter... Especially to Aeli." Jack grunted in which he was answered with a simple nod.

"I will... How are you holding up, Jackalope?" Loki teased softly, although he could clearly see the waned pain his cousin was suffering. "You look as if you've hit rock bottom recently."

"I..." Jack stopped himself, lulling over what Azurick and Talon had come to say to him. "Hey, Kit..." he tried a different approach, "You dated a Mortal once... A Priest, no less. I know you and he got into a lot of fights..."

"Yeah I heard you got into quite the scrap with your mate. Why do you ask?"

"How did you handle it?" came the soft question of a lifetime, the Emerald having never been so confused in his entire life.

"Oh, Jackalope..." Loki frowned, offering a softer look within his ruby gaze. "You need to keep one thing in mind at all times... What you are compared to what he is. 'Chei had a problem for a long time about feeling inferior, like he wasn't good enough because, hello, dating a dragon. Something so powerful and mythical as that... Come on, it has to be a struggle to stand there and constantly struggle with the question of 'Why me'?, hn? Just as you need reassurance that the mortal you chose still thinks you're worthy of them, he needs to know that you feel the same way."

Jack blinked at the words before eyes downcast to the floor. "I don't know how to do that. Courting an elf compared to courting a dragon is far different."

"Sometimes all it takes is the small things, hn? Not necessarily gifts or elaborate items.. Sometimes all it takes is to simply say hey. I'm here and prove it."

"You had three consorts at one point.. How did you even deal with it?" Jack huffed, puffing his cheeks. "I mean, like, when Ghost kept running off with people and then would come back to you like it was no big deal... And then your other two basically got together and ignored you."

Lokitan shrugged slightly, looking up at the male that dwarfed him. "It hurt, Jack. It hurts. You wonder if maybe you did something wrong and sometimes you're left alone while they all go off and do their own thing... But just like when Kar vanished, you did your own thing. You met new people, hung out with friends. If they love you as much as you say they do or they say they do? They'll come back, especially the one you chose first. If they replace you with someone then they're just not worth it. As long as they come back? You'll know they care."

The words echoed through his mind before he wet his lips to stall time in their conversation, mulling over everything his cousin was telling him. "Is it really that easy?"

"It's only as easy as you want it to be. Fighting with someone who only has so many years to find happiness is futile... They grow old and die and you will be left alone with the one question that will haunt you forever... Did I do what I could to make them happy in their life?"

"Do you feel that way about Bret?"

Lokitan smiled softly at the name, still fond of it yet he closed his eye, hiding the longing gaze. "Every day. Her life was taken and it was something so painful that I didn't think I could handle it. I'd like to think that I helped her enjoy her life, not hinder her dreams and aspirations."

There was a moment of silence brought over the blond in which he chewed at his lip for a moment, licking the bite mark he created with his own fangs. With that, he gave a slow, simple nod.

[jackarychaoti]

The Comfort.

As the two cousins sat surrounded by a pile of books, time had ticked away, for they were finally on the last of Jack's list to do. While Lokitan worked to help explain the runes, Jackary wrinkled his nose, cutting the other off with the oddest of questions.

"How do you apologize to someone?"

"... Are you fucking serious right now? I was pulled from the wild to come help a well known and sought after, TALENTED Magister and I get stuck with my whiny-ass cousin who's having an emotional breakdown?"

Jackary frowned and set the quill down, eyes lifted in a pleading manner towards Loki, looking for any sort of advice. He watched the Rogue sigh and eventually push the book aside, making eye contact.

"Fine. Fine! Fuck it, let's talk about this, because it's killing you inside. It's eating away at you so much that you can't even focus on your work. So lay it on me. Do you need to apologize to the Rogue or the Warlock that came to see you?"

"Neither," Jack assured, watching the huffy family bristle in annoyance. "The Warlock is... I can't say partner, that's not accurate."

"He's one of your three, gotcha."

"Yeah! And the Rogue is.. er... Was a thorn in my side, but we worked it out, I believe."

"Soooo...." Loki coaxed, his pierced eyebrow quirked.

"I need to apologize to Gentil. I shouldn't have to, but at the same time, he is my partner and, well... I hurt him. I shouldn't have lost my temper at him, although enough was enough. Still, he is the love of my life and I don't want him to sit on the thought of me forever being angry."

"Well, usually apologies start with something along the lines of 'I'm sorry', I would think." Lokitan replied, waving a set of claws absently as if the topic meant nothing. Alas, Jack was one of the few left he trusted and they had been through hell and back for each other.  "You're clearly beating yourself up over this. Why?"

"Because, I..." Jack stammered, looking for the answer as to why it bothered him so much. "... I love him, Loki. That alone scares him."

"I'd be scared too if I were a mortal and a dragon was all up in my life saying he loved me."

"Well, I mean... Clearly there is simply something wrong with the way I'm approaching this whole situation. I feel like that's where my apology should come into play, you know? It's cruel of me to expect my feelings returned when he doesn't even truly know what he wants."

With a slow nod, Loki leaned back into his chair, offering a faint smile from his viewed, scarred lips. "Ever thought about stepping back? Letting him choose how fast he wants to go? Surely you have places to go and people to be around to give him space."

"Well.. I mean... Wings is back. And there's Andi, too. And yeah... I mean I know a lot of people, so I--"

"So you can focus your attentions on your other friends for a while. Let your Priest come to you. You're not a dog, Jack. You're not some housepet that has to greet these people with a wagging tail and follow them around. You're a dragon. A fierce, fully grown beast that people fear in this world."

The Mage nodded in agreement and looked up as if the ceiling would have had a cue for his replies. "I suppose reconnecting with my friends wouldn't be a bad idea at all. I miss all the laughter and fun times we had. It could give the three of them some space, too."

"Exactly. So buck up and take it slow. Go bond with Wings again, you two were extremely close, weren't you?"

"W-Well yeah but--"

"No buts, then. Collect yourself and be the happy-go-lucky gift-giver you've always been. We've all struggled with dark parts of our past, you are no different and this taint that controlled you for a while will one day be nothing more than a distant memory. Enjoy these mortals you're so attached to while you can. Let them live their short lives."

With a defeated sigh, Jack couldn't help but smile a bit. "Simple as that?"

"Simple as that, Jackalope. Step back, when these people are ready for you, they'll come to you."

"So..." Jack whispered, clicking his pierced tongue a moment. "... How do I apologize?"

"You start with saying 'I'm sorry', I think it's a good opener. Let's get back to work so you can go home, alright? Seems you have a lot to discuss and a lot of people to see."

An eager nod escaped the blond and soon the quill was raised again to the notes, his new momentum a sign that he was ready to move on and get back to how it used to be. Nothing but smiles and laughter. It was a lovely dream to hold onto indeed and this time, he would assure it was within his grasp.

[jackarychaoti]

The Shackle.

"I'm telling you, there is something wrong!" Jackary huffed out, having been pacing back and forth within the walls of Chaoti's Garrison. As he furiously jerked his frame, two figured watched the impatient Magister in his faltering steps.

"Jackalope ya be needin' ta calm down..." Sukkul offered in attempt to comfort his 'son'. The Zandalari could only frown further when he began to realize that there was possibly no calming the irritated, caged beast.

"How can I calm down?! Something's wrong! This isn't like any of them!" Jack all but squawked, pushing his hands firmly against his head to grip at his own hair.

"Will you calm the fuck down? It's been two days," Loki chided, leaning back atop his rocky perch. His cousin's constant whining had started to grate on his already fried nerves, on top of the issues at hand. "I'm sure they can handle a few more without you."

"That's not the point!" came the snarky reply. "The point is that I promised him I wouldn't leave without letting him know! And then YOU guys put me under house arrest and I sent a letter but I don't know if he got it and I'm TELLING you something doesn't FEEL right!"

The dramatic display from the Mage only rendered the Rogue and Druid to sigh out, both had indeed shackled Jackary, quite literally into the Garrison. It had been the only way to assure he'd stay out of trouble while his dwindling mana pool needed to recover.

There were no trees in Frostfire, none that Jack fancied anyway. Even Birchus had promptly denied Jack's whining grabby hands, wanting to climb up into the Ent's branches. Such was life. On top of it all, the wild and free spirit's  right let adorned a cuff, a bracelet that kept him bound to their location, denying the usage of portals.

"So send him another letter and stop your damned whining. We're doing this for your own sake." Loki snarled, shooting a glare of warning down to the panicked blond.

Jack merely glanced at the two in a defeated, guilt-stricken look. Somewhere in his heart, he knew that there was something wrong with his boyfriend and those he called family. Yet without two days of contact, he knew time apart was a good thing... Minus the ever scratching thoughts in the back of his mind.

"Mebbeh ya should be gettin' back ta trainin'..." Sukkul tried again in hopes the situation would have been defused. "I 'ave yet ta see ya cast a single fireball... Dat dun' be like you."

Jackary lowered his head as shoulder slumped in defeat. His own family was falling apart, he was chained up and couldn't even get ahold of anyone. He didn't know what to do anymore. All he hoped for was that the owl that had been carrying to letter to Gentil was delivered. A brief note, but it explained where Jack was.

He had promised Gentil while he wiped the remains of tears away from the Elf's cheeks that if he ever had to go somewhere, he's tell the Priest. In his desperation to fulfill his words and prove that he wasn't like those in the other's past, a frustrated noise escaped and his foot yanked at the shackle and chain, failing to break the bond. He was trapped in another world and he hadn't had a chance to say a word.

[jackarychaoti]

The house had been quiet, but within the night, the lights had been aglow, lighting up the nest Gentil had created for Jackary. Within it there had been four figures sitting around, guitars in hand of two, another was toying with the piano that had made it’s way into the beautiful surroundings. 

Fireflies were swirling around, crickets chirping ever so sweetly and as the laughter of four males escaped, they all began to quiet down, lowering their voices. It was a perfect evening, warm and sweet in the scent of spring.

“Okay, okay.” Aeredyn grinned, motioning. “Let’s hear the new damn song, Jack.” he chirped.

“I’m not singing this one,” Lokitan remarked lazily, leaning back against a pillow while he continued to idly strum the guitar that was within his lap. “Especially if it’s a love song. I never signed up to be a lead singer of this weird boy band.”

“Buh... I mean what... I didn’t write a new song,” Jack huffed, cheeks puffed while he continued to tune his own guitar carelessly.

“Don’t fuck with me man, I saw the sheet music near the piano.”

“Just because you prefer drums doesn’t mean we haven’t heard you sing before, idiot.” Zaer replied smoothly, sitting at the bench of the piano. For such a threatening Warrior, to see him at an elegant instrument almost seemed quite off.

“Seriously, bro,” Aero coaxed again, grinning while he slouched further. “Come on, you should do it. Just once. Sing one song, I want to hear.”

“But I---” Jack stammered, cheeks reddening.

“Aero hasn’t heard you sing, hn?” Loki questioned, lofting his pierced eyebrow at the others, strumming a single chord to assure the guitar was set before it was returned to it’s rightful owner. Even as Aeredyn took it, the Paladin shook his head in confirmation towards the Rogue.

Jackary puffed his cheeks and glanced down at the guitar in his own hands, idly strumming a few chords ever so gracefully. The blush formed over his face, but he wet his lips, swallowing hard. With a slow inhale, Jack’s eyes closed to calm himself, the voice that escaped seemed to almost echo sweetly.

“Heart beats fast, colors and promises...”

Falling quiet, Loki, Aero and Zaer watched in disbelief and for as long as Zaer and Loki had known Jackary, even they seemed breathless, speechless from the tune. They watched the Mage sway in the beat he was strumming, the song carried out and into the house.

He was unaware if his full blown voice and volume could have been heard from the windows so close to his nest and the tree he often climbed into, if only to wave to Gentil once in a great while. He had been quite passionate about music and when singing, Jack always lost himself to the rhythm. It was enough to raise the hairs along the occupant’s skin, for it had become obvious just who it was written for.

| - gentilwebb - |

[jackarychaoti]

The Duo.

Sunlight glimmered through the pines, casting the rays within the morning beauty of the world. The storm from the previous evening was long since gone and the birds chirped, welcoming the dew droplets that fell from the leaves and blades of grass. The warmth of the sun glistened over Jackary's face, fluttering lashes to finally respond from the deadened slumber he had fallen into. When those optics opened, peridot stared up at the clouds above, hazy as to where he was and how he had come to be.

"Looks like the little champ's awake," came a voice, laced with a chuckle.

"Funny, I assure you. At least he's not dead, the boss would have our head." came the second voice, followed by the ruffling noise of approaching figures.

When Jackary winced from the silhouettes of two elvish creatures looking over him, he warily began to register just who it could have been. A hand attempted to lift itself, but the Mage's gaze was drawn to the bandage wrapped along the knuckles.

"Damn, look at him, dude. He's all sorts of fucked up! Heeeeeey Jackalope, ya dead, bro?" one called out again, grinning when the Emerald seemed to finally come around.

"Give him some damned space, idiot." the second voice replied again, however the figures finally came into view from the angle both males stood in over the groggy Mage.

"Come on, Zaer. You're thankful he's alive. Jaaaaaaaaaaack! Welcome back to the world of the living."

"Thankful because now Lokitan won't have our heads for not being able to find him, Aeredyn."

Pushing himself slowly to sit up, Jackary winced, gripping towards his side with a faint noise of displeasure. "Zaerathian..? Aeredyn? The hell you two doing here..?" He grumbled, slouching to ease the tension along his frame.

"Saving your sorry ass, it seems." Zaer remarked smoothly, well sculpted arms folded in the process, taking on his ever cold demeanor.

"Loki told us to come find you, must have been something serious if he made both of us look, dude." Aero grinned, resting a hand on his plated hip. "Found ya out here by your lonesome, all conked out and everything. We weren't sure if you were dead or not from all that blood, honestly."

Jackary gazed himself over carefully, each wound cleaned to the best of a Paladin and a Warrior's abilities, especially considering the Light user was fairly shoddy at using any type of healing spell whatsoever. Each cut was sewn shut, his leg wrapped with fresh bandages and upon his face came to rest the stitched cut against his cheek.

"Sorry about your face, man. We tried our hardest to make sure all the wounds were closed." Aero admitted, rubbing his hand along the back of his neck.

"Indeed," Zaerathian interjected, showing no hint of emotion or sign of wonder. "You should be alright now, though. At least you're awake."

"Right?" Jack murmured, barely brushing his fingertips over the stitched cheek in a curious way. "Saved my scaly ass... Thanks guys."

"No problem!"

"You're welcome."

[jackarychaoti]

The Soul.

Once more, Lokitan stood heavily over his war table, snarling in irritation, but it wasn't a map of Draenor that he was looking at. "WHY are the scouts not back yet?!" He called out, slamming a fist down to jar the items that marked the new maps. Azeroth and Outlands were at his fingertips and already chunks were crossed out.

"We're trying, General... This is a lot more area to cover than just Draenor." Vivianne spoke, lowering her gaze in shame that their leader was writhing in anger. "It's a new world for some of your scout and--"

"Since when did MY scout teams need excuses to perform?!" The small Rogue roared and whipped around, pivoting on his heel to face the Forsaken woman. His eye was blazing, the crimson colour ignited in fury -- t even caused those that were still within the War Room to flinch and cower.

"M... My apologies, General..." The Forsaken hissed, drawing a step back. "I will take The Dark Ranger and the Paladin with me back to Eastern Plaguelands to search again."

"No need," came a third voice which drew the attention of all occupants in the room to the male who made himself known. Hands smoothed down the fiery black and red armour that decorated his form, the fel-infused eyes lifted in a serious gaze, a true sign of any proud Sin'dorei. "I bring news."

The tiny terror of a Rogue raised an eyebrow slowly, in no desire to waste his time any further than it had been. Several days had gone by and there was no sign of his cousin; his family was dying and all he could do was helplessly watch. "You had better start explaining your news as of ten seconds ago, Antulien."

"Sir," Aeredyn commented in respect to his team leader, yet he didn't bother to bow or show any sort of allegiance, only as if one friend were to speak to another. "I traveled the roads of Western Plaguelands after I found Jackary's belongings in the Eastern. No signs of him other than his satchel and scythe. I was told a group of people were searching for him, as well."

Lokitan's demeanor went from the ball of rage to a shrunken state, claws gripped firmly on the table behind him to steady himself. "... His Scythe?"

"Affirmative, sir. I met up with the team that was looking for him. They were lead by that Gentil Webb, your cousin's consort. Traveling with him were three elves and an Orc, if I recall."

"IF you RECALL?" Lokitan barked out again, bristled into a state of easy aggravation.

"Apologies, Sir, it's been a long past few days and I have yet to sleep." Aeredyn frowned, however his confident stance never wavered, not even when the short, raven-haired male approached him.

"Where are his belongings?"

"I gave them to Gentil Webb, Sir." Aeredyn gulped at the odd decision to do so and slowly exhaled, having expected some sort of repercussion for doing such.

"Is that all you found? His belongings?" Loki hissed. "You best not me sparing me details, Aeredyn."

"I found the items half buried in the ground, the surrounding area was covered in blood. There was an apparent struggle." Aeredyn dropped the information like a bomb, quick and to the point, knowing he had to swallow and bite the bullet of what was to happen next.

The Rogue's breath hitched and held itself, that single optic stared deeply into the Paladin's, almost as if he were looking through Aero, even judging his soul deep within. "... Continue" was all he could force from his masked lips.

"A Magic user, a friend of Gentil's, put some type of spell on an object that Jack gave to the Priest." Aeredyn continued on in a careful tone. "It acted as some sort of beacon which took us to Outlands. We searched there, the tracking device brought us to the edge of Netherstorm where Gentil and his crew would go no further. That Knight, Darnath met up with us there. The Orc and I went ahead and followed the tracker the rest of the way. It lead us to something peculiar that I wanted to speak with you about."

With a sigh at the news that it wasn't  Jackary they had found, Loki lifted a set of wicked claws to rub at the bridge of his nose carefully. "What did you find?"

"A box....A box filled with blue fire. The beam lead us straight to it, as if it were part of Jack."

"That's impossible," Lokitan was quick to cut him off; arms came to fold across his chest in which his claws dug heavily into his covered biceps.

"What is, sir? I'm telling you what we found... It was a pulsing blue orb of fire." Aero frowned further, shrugging his shoulders. "It felt strained, like it wanted to be kept hidden."

"Blue fire is what his species gives to their Soulsworns. Half of his living soul, the other half is still clearly inside of Jackary, meaning..." Lokitan paused and blinked, his blue-tipped ears soon lowered.

"Kaarasu planted it in an Eco-Dome in a place Jack hadn't been to in years?" Aero suggested the blunt truth. exhaling out a sigh. "If you're sure that it really is the item we found..."

"It means that the asshole knew he was leaving, so instead of giving it back, he hid it." Loki hissed, having not given the benefit of the doubt that maybe Kaarasu had been trying to keep it safe. It was infuriating and hurtful to think that Jackary had given something so precious and it was found in a damned box in the dirt. "Where is it now?"

"Gentil has it, Sir." Aeredyn was quick to reply, his head lowered in slight submission. "The team figured since it seemed to belong to Jackary, he was entitled to keep it safe."

"Fine.... As long as that fire still burns, we know that he is alive, at least."

It was their light in the dark, however it was then that Aeredyn had to pass the news along. He'd recorded the conversation using the comm that Darnath had loaned him and with ease, the recording was sent to the Death Knight's receiver. However, as relieved as he was for a sign that Jackary was still alive, he had begun to worry... With the way the Priest Jack was attached to had been acting, he was uncertain if it was safe or not to trust the remaining fraction of his family member's soul to an unstable male.

'Please, please really do care. Don't let that damned light die out.'

[jackarychaoti]

The Resignation.

Lokitan stood atop his mission's table, his figure small enough that he was easily able to walk around the massive map to point out the plans he had for the followers that were lined up. Once dispatched,  the room was left with only one other person standing in the center, awaiting the Rogue's attention.

When the raven-haired male turned around to excuse himself from the Garrison's meeting room, he blinked, facing Jackary. The forlorn gaze upon the Magister's face caused a pierced eyebrow on the Rogue to furrow in question and concern. It was rare for Jack to not being smiling and part of his stomach began to knot in fear.

"Jack," he greeted his cousin, the mask hid away any forced smile that he had to offer.

Peridot hues lifted to meet the crimson gaze of Loki, Jackary's ears had been pinned back and yet somehow they managed to wilt even more so. "Hey Kit..." He tried to speak out, but shortly after, his vision fell to the floor, giving him an even more defeated posture.

"Something troubling you?" Hopping down, the smaller of the two males started to approach the clearly upset blond, wary of such an emotional behaviour towards an unstable, insane creature.

".... I want to resign my position of Guardian..." Jack admitted quietly, still unable to pull his gaze from the floor. In fact, the words that he had practiced to say a hundred of times over were even more painful to admit, adding salt to his current wounds.

Lokitan frowned at this in which his arms folded across his chest, humming to himself. "... Jack," came his whisper, almost pleading for the Emerald to reconsider his actions. "Do I need to remind you of the oath you took in stepping up to the Guardian rank?"

"Yeah... You offer the most precious thing in your life in exchange for the duty to protect the team. Should you be removed from the rank or step down, as compensation, that item is taken from you and destroyed."

The Rogue swallowed to himself, clearly reminded of the rules that he also knew far too well. "... And what did you put on the table as a fair trade, Jackary? What was the most important thing to you?"

The Mage's heart sank, shattering once he thought of what had been his fair trade. The painful thumps of the organ against his ribcage could have easily been felt through each shared Mark of Chaoti, there was no point in hiding the anxiety and stress over such. "... I offered my freedom." The confession was nearly brutal, but he continued to explain further. "... My ability to fly. To guard Chaoti, I sacrificed my wings."

Lokitan could only fall quiet at the realization, his words lost in the silence that followed the confession. His single eye glanced off, focusing on nothing in particular while the silence began to grate on his nerves, his emotions stirred with his own chest, for the anxiety of Jackary's mark blazed through his own, rendering it nearly impossible to breathe. "... Is that really something you're ready to give up..?"

A soft sniffle escaped the Mage before he lifted a hand and rubbed the back of it firmly at his eyes, wiping away the tears that had already formed. "I can't do this anymore, Kit.... I can't handle it... Everyone keeps getting hurt and I can't stop it or heal it... And I'm scared... I agreed to give my life for these people, but I'm scared to die! I can't even stop fights between the ones I love...!"

Blue-striped ears of the Rogue began to finally lower, watching his cousin break down into a mess of soft sobs. Guilt overflowed within him, having felt that if he wasn't so busy doing as commanded and trying to find a cure for The Fade, he wouldn't have put the other in such a situation. The crimson gaze finally lowered to the ground between them, the pained noises that escaped the crying blond in front of him only tightened his chest further.

Jack finally brought both hands up to cup his face to hide the endless tears that began to burn down his cheeks, his head hung further while shoulders trembled from his choked sobbing. "I-I can't... I can't even protect my mate.... I don't know where he is... I c-can't even save Aeli or San... And n-now they're hurt! And so are you.. I.... I about lost it when you were dragged back into the Garrison and unconscious! I... I'm such a failure.... Please, Loki... I can't handle this curse anymore..."

Lokitan shook his head slowly, silently thankful that his mask had hidden away his facial expressions. "You'll lose your wings, Jack... I can't do that to you, not when we're so close on the brink of war and you're in danger. You're being hunted, why would I take away your quickest way to escape? I'm sorry.... But I can't let you resign..."

The words tore deeper into the burning wounds that he felt and soon the Mage's legs gave out from under him to collapse to his knees in defeat. Hands clasped hard over his mouth to muffle the pained noises while his frame sank down completely into a curled up position. All that Jackary could do was cry, he couldn't even stop Lokitan from walking past him to exit the door.

As good of intentions that Loki had, he had just sentenced Jack to a slow, painful death.

[jackarychaoti]

The Insult.

The whole night had been a complete disaster. Jack had spent far longer at a meeting with Khadgar and many other well pronounced Magister's discussing the next plans to action with the Portal situations and complications. He had every intention to surprise Gentil that night, but the moment he had stepped foot back into Silvermoon, it was the moment he met a cruel fate.

He'd been jerked around, yelled at, been told off, been told to handle a situation he was unclear of and what had been worse, is that he had a relationship drop into his lap to swallow on top of all of the drama. He could still taste the bitter tone that lingered on his lips, but more so the hurtful words that were snapped at him by his own family...

Jackary stood there to look in the mirror, staring at himself. He'd spent the gold for a room at an Inn for he needed to clean up and get himself back on track. Still, as his eyes stared into his own reflections, he couldn't even bring himself to smile.

Was he a bad person?

Aelisia's words rang through his head over and over. Her voice, her bitter tone that bit hard into his heart and ripped it apart. Just when he was accepting and moving on from Kaarasu, she had dropped his name like he was alive and standing behind him, like the man wasn't a haunting ghost within Jack's past.

She'd made her words and intentions clear. He was spending all his time thinking about Gentil and how he had 'so easily' given up on Kaarasu. The thought of such alone only boiled his blood to no end. He was close... He was close to moving on and during her small spiteful show of behaviour...

Without a second thought, his hand raised up and struck forward with sheer violence, curled knuckles crashed loudly into the reflective glass. He didn't even bother to pull his digits from the shattered mess, the swelling sting of particles of glass that bit into his skin was nothing compared to the heartache that had ahold of him.

He loved his family so much... They were his world. They kept him from who he wanted to be with, they kept him on his toes. They filled his heart with the strength he had needed for so long just to press on... And suddenly he was thrown to the wolves and stabbed with a verbal dagger.

Had she meant it? Jack didn't even know. All he could think about was a previous conversation he once held with Lokitan.

"Do you ever regret this? Regret the marking that binds us?"

"Regret it? Hn... No, I didn't used to... But when I finally found someone I wanted to spend my time with and get to know because I felt that I wanted to be in love with that person... They became out of control, fighting for my attention and in turn, they fought each other."

Was this feeling of betrayal?

Was this the feeling of regret?

Jack didn't even know, anymore.

[jackarychaoti]

The Zandalari's Return.

"Could you not?!" came in an irritated whine, the owner of the voice stood there in a posture that screamed irritation. Jackary folded his arms with a scowl, his form drenched in sweat as he sported nothing but his knee-length pants which was startling in Frostfire, even for a Frost Mage.

"Come on, spar with me." called out a second voice from a near chipper Rogue who had forsaken his own shirt to cool down from their rigorous work out. "Do it, or I'll flick your ear again, hn?"

Jack's eyes rolled as his arms dropped, shoulders slumped in defeat. "I'm tired, Kit... We've been at this all night. At LEAST since East left for some weird Dinner plans!"

"I would think you'd want to keep your mind off it for a while," the Rogue replied arching his body when arms lifted above his head to stretch the sore muscle. "I'm sure that guy had a life before you bashed into him. You're not jealous, are you?"

"I didn't bash into him..." Jack puffed in defense. "I merely almost ran into him because the ground was slippery in tar and I wasn't watching where I was going. And for the record, I'm not jealous!"

"Uh-huh..." Loki crooned, glancing over the muscular figure of his cousin. ""Speaking of dinner, you should eat Jack... You're gettin' skinny again."

A low grumble of defiance left the Magister before his head rolled back to let out a noise of frustration. "Augh! Are you going to pick on me ALL night?"

"Only until you fling a few spells for sport!"

As the two bickered, a subtle shadow approached, the silhouette of a large figure eased into view to watch the two. Slowly, the faintly shaking body would ease down to sit on hind haunches, revealing himself within the natural lights of the fiery enclave, yet he dared not say a word. Instead, a faint, fond smile tugged on his lips while ears listened.

The Troll that watched had seen better days, his Prime long since passed, hair white as the snows that surrounded them. Wrinkles adorned his face, his hands gripped the staff that helped walk him to the noises of the two while gentle, kind eyes tiredly glanced to each male.

As the Rogue began to rile the Mage up even further, the elderly Druid finally piped up, his voice slightly raspy but very much soothingly. "If'n ya boys be done arguin'... Eiddah kiss n' make up, or ya best be gettin' ta da fightin'."

Both Lokitan and Jackary stopped, instantly directing their attentions to the Zandalari who had been watching them for whoever knew how long.

"Sukkul!" Jack chirped happily and smiled, instantly brightening up in which he began to dash forward. Lokitan had trailed behind in casual steps, smiling to himself to see just how excited his cousin became around the troll.

"Jackalope... " Sukkul greeted warmly, nearly toppling over with a grunt once the blond all but pounced and clung on. Fingers would pat the boy on the back before he held the Mage, his lethargic gaze rolled towards the approaching Rogue.

"Sukkul..." Loki greeted in a near meek tone. Having been away from their mentor for so long, he had just then realized how old the Troll had become. The subtle hints of the world and time catching up had become obvious, but instead of gawking, Loki forced a smile.

A hand motioned for the smallest to join in the hug and soon the Zandalari held both dragons within his arms, squeezing as a nurturing parent would their young children. "Ah, boys..." Came a heartfelt whisper.

"Oh, man!" Jack all but squawked and pulled back, nothing but smiles dashed across his charming face. "Tell me you're staying?! Oh pleaaaaaaaaaaaaaaase?! Please please pleasepleaseplease!"

Sukkul could help but throw his head back and let out a hearty bout of laughter. "Ya ya..." He nodded, ruffling the long tresses of hair to assure the male. "Ah be stayin' fo' a while."

"Yeeees! That means we can start training again!" Jack threw his hands up in excitement, grinning to the point where sharpened fangs were exposed in delight.

"Oh now you want to train..." Loki groaned, finally pulling away from the elderly Troll to allow him a bit of breathing room. "You should rest first, Old Man..." The name was spoken in honesty but also out of the way a bratty teen would speak to his father that he truly did respect.

As much as Sukkul did agree, it was obvious that Jack had forgotten, or perhaps didn't even notice that their mentor was aging. Instead he was an endless pit of energy, happy to finally see the Zandalari known as Sukkul Flamedancer once more.

Oh, the stories that Jack had to share with the male he looked up to as his father figure.