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syrahnbloodfeather · 8 years ago

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Old Wounds, Older Roads

Tyrasam stood there beside her wagon, scowling at the broken wheel she now had to fix; although this particular road through Eversong Woods was fairly safe, the sun was beginning its descent toward the horizon, meaning she had only a few hours left to reach Silvermoon City before nightfall. She cursed under her breath, fearful her daughter would hear her foul language and pick up on bad habits. Jaeras sat on a nearby tree stump, softly humming to herself with a large open book in her lap. Every now and then the tiara sitting on her crown would slip down and plop onto her reddened nose, abruptly halting her singing.

“You know you can take that off if it doesn't fit.” Her mother suggested, glancing over her shoulder at her before returning her focus to the wagon.

A kind smile wore on his expression as he lifted the wagon from the side with a single hand, the wood that lined the base of it creaked, barely keeping together as it shifted up. “Well, the princess needs to keep her crown, doesn’t she?” he offered in a seemingly lighthearted voice. Tyrasam’s ears perked up at the sound of a stranger’s voice, seemingly caught surprised someone had come along to help her without her noticing; instinctively she placed her hand on the hilt of her blade, and slowly walked around the wagon to identify this potential thief. The slightest of strain was apparent as he spoke- not from the weight, but rather, something else. He continued while maintaining a friendly visage; “There should be a spare wheel screwed underneath the carriage. You should be able to undo the bolt by hand…” his voice echoed lightly.

“Wh-what?!” Tyrasam stumbled backward, startled by the familiar face on the other side of the wagon; the instant she recognized who it was, she unsheathed her blade and pointed it in his direction. “No… no not here! Why are you here?!”

“What’s wrong, momma…?” Jaeras asked, almost letting the book slid off her lap while she gazed fearfully at Tyrasam.

“Get behind me sweety! We’re leaving!” The woman barked, scooping up Jaeras’ tiny hand to quickly pull her to her feet. The quick action shook the tiara loose from her golden crown, causing the girl to squeak out while it rolled out of her reach.

“Mn… that won’t do.” he squinted at Tyrasam for a moment, letting the wagon down gently onto its side. He stepped toward them a little bit before bending at the knees with a fluid motion to grasp the rolling tiara. He rose to his full height and held the item as if to inspect it. “It’s pretty. Who gave you this?” he asked, glancing at Jaeras while holding it out to her, ignoring Tyrasam’s outburst.

“One of momma’s friends ga-” The little girl was yanked back behind the trembling woman, as she slowly backed away from the Death Knight; she knew she couldn’t outrun him, and she definitely still remembered the last time she tried to fight this elf. “M-momma that hurt…” Jaeras huffed, placing her hand on Tyrasam’s waist. “You’re scaring me…”

“You have nothing to be afraid of child. Your momma’s just worried. I’m a little bit scary to most grown-ups.” he offered as an explanation as he held the crown out. His gaze grew cold for a moment as it adjusted to Tyrasam. Then again in an instant a softness grew to his gaze as he looked at the little one. “She’s just worried for you. There are a lot of bad people she’s met.”

“Do you know Mr. Rethandus? He’s one of my friends… and he looks like you!” Jaeras asked, stumbling a bit while she was pulled over a loose rock.

“Stop talking to him Jaeras!” Tyrasam snapped, shooting the little girl a cold glare before returning her scowl to Whitstan. “And you… just leave us alone! What do you want from us?!”

His teeth grit after Jaeras spoke, the temperature around them dropping noticeably. “Rethandus…” he spoke as his gaze darkened while facing down to the earth. He glanced up with a seemingly pleasant expression. “I do know him. He…” the man paused, contemplating a response, “Cares about you and mommy a lot.” His eyes darted to Tyrasam as he spoke, “What do I want? I just want to help you get back on the road. Or I could leave you to the bandits waiting across the hillside who just shot this metal shaft to break the spokes on your wheel. I suppose that’s your choice, then.” he offered with a helpful tone while the sarcasm dripped subtly from his voice.

The frightened woman froze in place, clutching Jaeras’ hand tightly. The thought of trying to fend off bandits versus fighting Whitstan again would be an easy choice to make, but she couldn’t risk Jaeras’ safety; slowly she lowered her blade, silently praying to the Gods that he wasn’t lying about the help, and this wasn’t the start of another one of his cruel games. “J-just…” she started, finally letting go of the little girl’s hand. “...fine. But you don’t touch her… you understand? Don’t you lay a single finger on her!”

He sighed as he approached the wagon again, using a hand to lift it up onto its side while it continued to crack under his grip. “Jaeras, can you ask your mom to help me out? She doesn’t want to listen to me.” he said, his swirling blue eyes shifting between the mother and daughter as a crooked smile twitched against the corner of his lips. “Once again, there should be a spare wheel underneath the carriage. Don’t worry, I won’t drop it on you.” he spoke out, addressing Tyrasam.

“Momma… we’re gonna be late…” Jaeras tapped on the Paladin’s legplate, puffing out her cheeks in defiance. Slowly Tyrasam stood up straight and sheathed her blade, but she didn’t remove her gaze from the former Spell-Breaker.

“We’re going to be late…” she corrected, sheepishly taking a few steps forward. “You stay right there until the wagon is repaired, okay? Don’t move an inch!” The little girl mumbled something under her breath, but she complied all the same. Tyrasam slowly walked to the end of the wagon, staying out of arm’s reach of Whitstan; there was no way she could trust him, not after all he’s done. But she needed to reach Silvermoon City before the shops began to close. “Why are you even out here…?” she started, bending down to reach for the spare wheel. “In the middle of the woods?”

He began to answer, “I was on my way back from Lordaeron. I have someone I wish to speak to here in Quel’Thalas… as for you...” he released the wagon to drop- as if to collapse on her head. He caught it in a split second as the wood continued to creak against his grip. “Just kidding.” he spoke as he maintained the wagon’s weight. “It’s good to see you.”

“Waah-!” Jaeras squeaked, clutching her face. “Careful mister!” Tyrasam pulled the wheel out from the wagon, and looked up to give Whitstan a glare so cold it would give Rethandus a run for his money; she was the exact opposite of amused. He let out a slight chuckle, “Don’t worry little one… your mommy’s fine. I’m too strong to let it drop on her.”

“You think giving her a scare is funny, do you?” Tyrasam grimaced, struggling to lift the large wooden wheel upright. “If you’re just going to kill me- get on with it. But spare Jaeras… unlike you, she’s pure and innocent.”

With his free hand, he still held the tiara. While the woman struggled with the wheel, he held it out to her, “Would you like your crown back, princess?” he asked. A glance went to Tyrasam. He spoke under his breath, “So… you would leave her an orphan because you’d rather me kill you in an instant instead of killing you on my own terms? You’re so noble. Just like her father.” he commented stoically.

“Fuck you. Zereth was twice the elf your sorry ass will ever-” Tyrasam cut her hissing off short the moment her ears perked up the soft patter of Jaeras’ footsteps. “Jaeras what did I tell you?! You were supposed to stay over there!”

“B-but my tiara…” she mumbled from behind her hands, keeping her bright eyes locked on her prize. Whitstan reached out and leaned a bit toward her to place the tiara on her head. “There. Now go back to where mommy told you so you don’t get hurt by the wagon.” he instructed her before turning his gaze back to Tyrasam. Jaeras gave the spooky stranger a polite curtsey before spinning in place to skip back to the other side of the road. Whitstan’s words were hushed but pointed, “You’re right… he’s twice the man I will ever be. He’s lived and died twice as much. I suppose that’s some sort of accomplishment by today’s standards? Perhaps I’ve been dead too long. But only one of us is still here to fight for the living.”

“Are you trying to twist the blade a little bit, Whitstan?” Tyrasam hissed, shooting a glance over her shoulder to make sure Jaeras was out of earshot. She grunted angrily from pulling the broken wheel off, letting it crash into the dirt beside them with a careless thud. “You think I don’t know how he died? You think I don’t revisit that horror every single night?!”

He continued to hold the wagon, regardless. Yet his stare grew more intensely against her visage, “And you think I forget your screams calling to your husband the very moment he burned alive from his own flame? The blame in your voice as you told us all that you could have saved him? That you could have talked to him and reached him? You expect me to forget how you trembled as you reached out to him and held his smoldered corpse? The flames I turned against him were his own. And he was ready to drown everyone in them. He would have left Kaevia fatherless, in the least. Even many more… and you want me to feel what? Pity? Sadness? Well… guess what Sammy… you win. I feel nothing but remorse for everything I’ve done no matter how much I lie about feeling none. Even burning my own brother alive to save countless others.”

“You…” she stared deep into his eyes for quite some time, barely keeping her composure as tears began to build. The Paladin trembled with hatred and grief, but she didn’t know how to react to his words; she wanted to kill Whitstan so badly, for everything he has done to her and her late husband. She needed that one-armed embrace from Zerethel now more than ever, and the longer she thought about it, the more helpless she felt. “... he was… m-my...” The tears were unstoppable now, causing Tyrasam to tremble in place.

“Momma…?” Jaeras called, pulling the tiara away from her eyes. “... what’s wrong…?” The Paladin quickly wiped away at her tears, sniffling a few times before shooting an unconvincing smile at the little elven girl.

“N-nothing sweety…” she lied, trying her best to sound calm; but the tears could not and did not stop, flowing down her reddening face. Tyrasam turned her back to Jaeras, fearful she was beginning to worry. “W-why don’t you sing us a song, love? I th-think we could use one r-right now…”

“Mommy is just trying hard to fix the wagon and it’s harder than we thought. Don’t worry.” he said, looking to her. “Do you like singing?” he asked.

“Yeah…” The little girl weakly responded, with uncertainty drifting from her voice. “I-I mean yes! Momma would sing to me so I could sleep good…-b-better! But I have a hard time remembering the words… so I hum it instead...”

“Well, would you hum us a tune while mommy helps me fix the wagon? I think that’ll help her concentrate. She’s not in a very good mood, if you noticed. She’s just worried about your safety.” he continued, a vague attempt at assuring her. Jaeras quietly began to hum, but the stress in her voice would consistently disrupt her song. Tyrasam closed her eyes tightly while she listened, sniffling a few more times before looking up to gaze at Whitstan; her stare did not last long, as the thought of getting caught out here after sundown stirred her back into setting the spare back on the wagon.

“So you’re here to say sorry?” The Paladin weakly spoke, almost choking on her words again. He paused a long moment before a dry response came from him, “No. You… spent your entire life swooning over him. Hopelessly in love. You turned a blind eye to everything he did and forgave him for everything you couldn’t ignore. Or did you so easily forget those words you whispered in sadness? I’m not sorry for his death.” he rasped out softly, the a hint of sadness wore about his voice as he glanced to the little girl humming a broken melody for them.

“He was a good man…” Tyrasam started, pausing to sharply inhale. “At least… that’s what I t-told myself…” She strained to push the spare into place, but it wasn’t budging. “I did turn a blind eye to all the terrible things he’s done… and I did my best to forget or forgive everything I couldn’t ignore. I just… I wanted things to go back… back when we were all just young idiots in these very woods. He was kind… and sweet… and caring… and I loved him with everything I had.” Tyrasam fell silent, giving up on pushing the spare wheel into place. “But then he changed… he grew colder… angrier… crueller… I just…”- Whitstan angrily kicked the wheel against the carriage, locking it into place. “I have no doubt he cared about you…” he muttered, remembering facts he had grown aware of the night before. “...Don’t…” he wanted to warn her not to give into despair, yet he was at a loss of words. “He might not have been himself at the end, but it doesn’t mean everything before that meant nothing.” he spoke out quietly.

“I just want him back…” Tyrasam wrapped her arms around herself, no longer capable of maintaining her composure. “I just want him to hold me again…! I just want to hear his voice! Even if it’s for a second… even if it’s just his wheezing!” She slowly dropped onto her knees, burying her face into her hands in a desperate attempt to hide her crying; but once the wailing started, there was little she could do about it. Jaeras had stopped humming for a while, clutching her tiara tightly while she gazed fearfully at the Paladin. The little elven girl whimpered, but she dared not speak; it wasn’t the first time she had seen her reduced to tears, but it was something she could never get used to.

He let the wagon drop down to its wheels again. His somber focus adjusted to Jaeras. “Come here little one…” he offered what solace he could by calling out to her. He motioned her forward as he sat down in between the grass and cobbled road. Giving Tyrasam some measure of comfort crossed his mind yet he didn’t know how. At least he had seen Kaevia interact with her children and learned that a gentle embrace even in the most exasperating moments could offer some consolation to children.

Jaeras reluctantly obeyed, taking tiny steps toward Whitstan while she stared fearfully at her mother. The last time she caught her in shambles like this, she remained hidden, watching in fear from the crack of the door; it was a dreadful sensation she didn’t know how to handle, leaving her with a cocktail of foreign emotions to deal with. “M-momma…” she whispered, once she stood beside him.

A cold hand tugged at her own, pulling her gently toward him. Cold eyes met her, but they carried a measure of empathy that only she understood after growing accustomed with her own father’s stoic expressions. “Jaeras… mommy just needs a moment. She’ll be fine after that. She’s strong. But sometimes, we all need time to… process things. I’m sure you understand, don’t you?” he spoke out as gently as he could.

“Yes…” Jaeras mumbled before he drug her closer to collapse against him while he embraced her with an arm. “Why is she crying? Am I in trouble…?”

“No, little one. You’re not in trouble. Mommy’s angry at me because I just said some mean things.” he muttered gently as he adjusted the tiara on her head. “I think I should be heading out now. Will you be fine?” he asked gently, in a friendly tone.

“Yes…” she repeated, before pursing her lips and furrowing her brow. “I wish I could help momma. Lately she’s been crying a lot… so I give her extra hugs and kisses. But I don’t think that’s helping…”

“It might not seem like it, but I think it does. Mommy just needs time.” He commented. Regardless of the reality of it, he would make his own assumptions. He released his embrace to pat the girl on the head. “Go let mommy know everything is going to be alright.” he uttered. Jaeras quickly nodded, but she wasn’t sure how she would help. Around halfway between the former Spell-Breaker and the Paladin she turned to glance over her shoulder.

“What’s your name…?” she called out, scrunching her nose the moment the tiara slipped back over her face again.

By that time, he was on his feet again as he dusted off his tabard. “Whitstan.” he replied. He figured moving about his own would be more beneficial for all of them at this point even though their destination remained the same. He paused a moment as a bright red light flashed in the palm of his hand. He moved to give it to the little one. He held it between his forefinger and thumb as he reached out. “Take this. And call my name if you need assistance.” he offered her, “Now, get going.” he said to spur her movement.

A slight smirk wore about his lips before he began to walk along the cobbled path to the High Kingdom.

“Thank you Mr. Whitstan.” Jaeras cupped the blood crystal firmly between her hands, looking up to give him another formal curtsey before running off to her mother. Slipping it into her pocket, the little girl placed her hand on Tyrasam’s shoulder; the Paladin replied with a smothering hug, wrapping her arms around her to cry into her collar.

“Al diel shala.” he uttered.

Mentions: @k-sunrael Collab budderinos: @whitstanwilhelm @istrys

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