Grim Views

((Mood music to be decided... for now, i'm going with this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QuMzYnMWnFo ))


“Screams… So many people screaming, I cannot think! I must silence them… make them disappear.â€

((Was listening to these as I wrote this. So they *may* or *may not* have had a factor in how I wrote this heh >.> whatever. just slapping them on here: http://search.playlist.com/tracks/Adagi ... rings   (the one by Barber), and http://search.playlist.com/tracks/Sur%20Le%20Fil (just click the first one)


Pain...that is what I remembered then.  It was electrifying almost, as if every part of my body were infused with a light I thought long dead. I remember seeing my features return to how they once were, before this...curse. And yet I found myself profoundly affected by it emotionally. I was...calm again.

Myrileas (Mir-eh-lease) looked at me with pity in her eyes, I remember that. It was entertaining somewhat, as I was brushing my hair back with a fingertip as I peered at her curiously unsure as to why there was hurt in her eyes. I did not recognize this woman and yet it felt as if I should have.

"Why are you here, Malkaris?" she asked, her voice soft, pleading for an explanation that may not be one she wanted.

"What does it matter? I'm leaving." I said, still somewhat in awe as I looked on my renewed skin, my hands, my arms...

"Please no, wait... Stay. We have much to talk about."
Her features were stern but her eyes said otherwise. Now, I've never been a very empathetic type, however I do believe she was every bit as pained as I was.

"No we don't. I don't even know who you are. There is no reason for my being here in the first place. I merely wished to see...to see"

"what?" She asked.

"What were you looking for, Malkaris? Acceptance? Some lost part of your soul that you perhaps left with us? Malkaris, It hurts me so much that you cannot even remember the mother of your daughter. What has happened to you?"

She moved in closer, but like the shadows to me, light seemed to stay about her as if emanating from her very core. Ahh yes... the tear. I remember a tear rolling down the left cheek.

"Sargeras happened. The sundering happened. Myr... I thought you were dead. I thought Saeris was dead. What would I have then? Dath'remar went on to found his own home and I was left with having to deal with being an outcast for being Highborne!"

I remember my voice raising, more pained than angry though I suspect I was angrier than I wanted to admit.

I startled her as i picked up a crystaline cup holding mead I think it was... she half turned slightly.

"And all because your beloved Malfurion could not accept that we needed to become more knowledgable about the Arcane. We went wrong. But we should have learned our mistakes and built upon them.  We wouldn't have had to be our bantering with the Humans or those other earthen rejects!" I bellowed.

It was so strange, because before now I had never felt this much animosity towards what had happened.

"Malkaris, your faith in the arcane arts is frightening.  Do you even remember what it did to *your* family much less that of every other Highborne? Look at those cursed Sin'dorei now!"

She extended her arm for effect...

"They're barely keeping a float after the Sunwell was destroyed. Kael'thas, that scar on an honerable name, betrayed his people. All because of their addiction to magic and the lifestyle they chose.  Would you truly have that for us?"

She had wandered next to me at some point during her words. To be honest it was almost surreal. having lived amongst the lesser races for so long had made him forget the grace and majesty that was his peoples. She placed a hand on my left shoulder and tilted her head to look up and peer into my eyes, as I was looking down at the floor at the time.

"For me?"

It was at that point she pressed herself up against me and embraced me. I simply stood there....I was torn. After all these years, her fragrance was still the same. I could feel her breathing on my neck as she spoke, her lips tickling my neck. A part of me yearned to embrace her, screaming at my mind till it hurt. And yet another part of me yearned for something darker. It hungered. And it gnashed its teeth in the dark recesses of my soul for blood.

((sorry it took so long to continue this heh. Will be trying to improve on my writing style (as far as descriptions and whatnot go) so...yar.))

((Rawr. Tis 2:22 AM. I'm at my brother's house and no wow to play. SO. Writing! And drinking Vanilla coke. In either case, skipped a tiny bit for story purposes as to what was said between Malkaris and Myrileas after she embraced him.

Music: www.playlist.com/xavrael  , Scroll down the play list till you get to Lacrimosa by Mozart.))

I turned my head about slightly to look at Teldrassil growing ever smaller behind me as I rode upon the back of Myrileas's Hippogryph. My robes were bellowing about me as my hair danced in the air and irritatingly about my face.  My eyes focused on the woman sitting on one of the branches of a large tree overlooking the ocean. She had a glow about her which was very recognizable. Odd that she still lived. Normally... when the monster within stirred, it resulted in the deaths of things about me, driven mad by the shadows that I exude.

A melancholy smile played on her face as she let one of her legs dangle on the side of the branch she sat on. She extended her hand and drew a familiar glyph in the air, the family sigil or glyph of the Darkfire family line and drew it to her heart. The gesture was not wasted, as it drew a pang to Malkaris' heart. and he wanted to hate her for it.



Northrend


The familiar arctic winds blew across my face as I rode my dreadsteed along the coast of the Borrean Tundra. Temples, long forgotten have been rediscovered. Another reminder of an Empire long past. This was my home. The northern most part of Kalimdor was where my family lived.  Normally, Highborne wanted to stay close to the Well of Eternity, however, my father had other interests that made our place of residence more prudent.

The cold was useful. It was necessary to keep bodies from becoming badly decomposed as he carried out his Necromantic experiments. Granted, the actual estate lies underwater, it would have been a few miles south of Dragonblight and the Borean Tundra. What as now known as Northrend, was once a land i knew very well. But things have changed. Coming here has also changed me.

My steed stops moving beneath me. My head turned to see whatever it was that was causing my mount to hesitate so. Snow fell from my hood which allowed me to see my breath in the frigid air. I drew the cloak closer around myself, content with the temperature that I had grown up living and compelled my steed to continue on. I looked out before me and all i beheld was snow and rock. The winds were tempestuous, sending snow to and fro violently making it hard to see much of anything. But It did not matter.

Shadows danced within my peripheral vision. I knew better than to attempt to look at them directly. They were moving far too quickly and such things I had grown used to while living with my father.

Void shadow trotted at an even pace, wary but not moving so slow as to halt any progress of getting to where I wished to go. And perhaps my mind began to play tricks as well. faint shadows turned into ghostly visages floating about within the snow, oblivious to my presence.  But they were not strangers, no, they were images of myself, my mother, my father, my brothers and sisters, though, my only surviving sibling, Xavrael was not to be seen amongst these images. He had always been one to go out and explore.

My father's image come into focus, his muscular form standing arrogantly above myself, his black robes with blue energy flowing through the materal as if like water, slow and purposefully. His hood obscured his face but his crystal blue eyes, not silver like other Kaldorei, shined brightly and intensely from beneath his hood, the family trait. But despite not being able to see his face, as he held his arms behind his back and tilted his head at me, I could not help but feel his malevolent grin growing on his face.

The view expanded so that it seemed as if i were looking upon him from a distance. He was surrounded by trolls. It was not an uncommon thing as we were constantly defending... and taking lands from them for years. It was a hopeless scene. Him alone against hundreds, his gamble, his ticket to infamy. He has walked into a troll city, not a large one, but one large enough to prove whatever theories he had about the experiment he was about to conduct.

The ice trolls soon surrounded him, not sure what to make of this Kaldorei who had strolled into their city. But their aggression would not be held in check by confusion for long.
The image of my father kneeled, an interesting gesture for him, who did not bow to anyone save for the Queen. He kissed the tips of his index finger and middle finger held together and then placed them somewhat deeply in the snow, allowing him to touch the earth below it. His smile grew as shadows began to coalesce about the ground he touched. Witchdoctors drew closer trying to undo whatever it was that my father was trying to do but to no avail.

Soon, the snow turned black like oil, creeping out slowly and as it did, limbs began to slowly come out of it. Trolls waited no longer and began to charge. More limbs would raise and soon heads, faces, and torsos. Creatures of darkness and death climbed their way out of this oily substance and began to do battle with the trolls. They were ravagers of flesh, and destroyers of all life with terrifying glowing blue orbs for eyes and vampire like mouths. They cleaved through flesh with their clawlike hands and sinuous limbs.

My father simply continued to smile as his dievout razed the city. When all was done, he walked amongst the dead picking those who seemed to have been of strong spirit. He extended his hand to each in kind and as he did, their bodies would convulse and twisted in unnatural positions as their souls were ripped out from their dead meat. The spirits would cry out in distress as his Devout would also rend their souls until all that was left was energy, which my father would consume.

The Image faded away once again to a tribe of human barbarians. They had been gathering for some time on our lands, settling and such from their Nomadic lifestyles. They had begun attempts at claiming lands that were not theirs, at least, no longer theirs.

Night fell. And once again i saw the shade of my father walking amongst the sleeping humans. A child would stir and look up, and he would simply caress the child's eyebrow, putting it back to sleep and would continue to walk through the camps and smalll villages, allowing the shadows from within to spread outward, our curse which in his mind, was actually a gift.  By morning, the men would wake up, enraged, eyes completely filled with blood (so to look at them, it would seem as if their eyes did not glow but looked like orbs made of blood) and kill their wives. Children would wake, and find instruments of death and kill their parents in their sleep. Parents would be forced to kill their children to save one another. Chaos followed in my father's wake whenever he wished to conduct his experiments.

And now I look at myself, the family curse ever present. And I find myself questioning whether or not I wish to becoming like my father.

"It is good to be home."

(Thanks Ach for the link to this collection of music (the facebook one, not the youtube thingy o.o))
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tII1DSHP ... re=related



Shadow blanketed the land as night falls over the Borrean Tundra, the stars shining brightly enough though it was dusk, the sun almost disappearing, oblivious to the doomed world their light is shined on. The wind blows, hard enough to allow the grasses to wave and disturb the robes and hood Malkaris was wearing somewhat. He looks up and closes his eyes, savoring the smells amidst the rising steam, the snow melting about his dreadsteed's hooves. The sounds of predators lurking and insects permeated his surroundings, which didn't bother him any, he was content enough to finally be able to explore the "playground" of his childhood, wrecked and a shadow of it's former self but...familiar nevertheless.

He tried his best to avoid the roads, to avoid the patrols of both Horde as well as Alliance, not that he had anything to hide, but simply put, none of them would understand. Most, if not all of them are far too young to understand. One thing was certain, however. In all of his years, the thing that never got old, was watching the younger generations carve their path through their destinies. Some were predictable, others, not so much. But with time, the wisdom to establish patterns is a gift that can't be ignored.

Still...Malkaris pondered these things as his dreadsteed lazily meandered about, no clear destination, just as it's master liked it when not called upon by the young, though, high in position, of the Grim, as much as Aquizit's voice grated on his nerves... Jurani, was entertaining enough, for a troll anyway. And Abric, though Human, did not seem to have the weaknesses inherent within his race. 

Malkaris opens his eyes and ponders, his icy breath before him.  What manner of leaders would these individuals make if given a place within their respective homelands? Should the Kaldorei empire ever rise again, it would be a boon to civilization if the various leaders were placed in power... Hm. Idle musings...but still. Would Aquizit lead his people to grow stronger as he has lead our assaults (albeit with Jurani whispering in his ear)?  Or would Qabian and his bedmate take power? Perhaps better to bring them back into the fold? *Malkaris gives a soft chuckle*

Watching the newer generation of the fallen Highborne always amused him, though in different ways. Many of them are so damned eccentric.  He often times wonder if they are not still degenerating... He hopes not.  The legacy of the Highborne must survive so that when Azshara does come back to her rightful place as Queen, we won't have to breed a new generation of Highborne from scratch.

Malkaris looks up, shaken from his thoughts only to see two Kaldorei children staring at him, a boy and a girl.  The little girl extended a flower in Malkaris's direction while the boy simply looked up at the older Kaldorei male, swathed in shadows, his darkened robes, electrical arcs slowly moving within the glowing blue orbs that are his eyes.  Malkaris gave them both a small smile, no doubt wondering what their fates would bring. His hope is that one day the boy would be schooled in the magical arts, perhaps the girl as well. More importantly that the option be given to do so. To recognize the inherent strength their people have over the forces of the nether itself! But that...is a dream he will work to bring about.

He dismounts, moving in a preternatural manner, slow as if gliding towards the two children and leans down, taking the flower from the girl and kissing her on the forehead. The veins in beneath the skin he gently kissed turn black for a moment before returning to normal, the girl not noticing. He smells the flower and is reminded of home, before the sundering. He looks back down at the girl and places the flower on her ear, sitting down and forming small globes of darkness for the children to play with, which they took to hesitantly at first, but joyfully began to prance around, the globes eluding them as the children tried their best to catch them.  The girl proved the swifter and caught the globe of darkness with a triumphant squeel.  The boy soon after caught his.

The little boy looked up and squinted his eyes at the dark figure sitting next to him.

"Old one... you don't seem to be a druidy type...how is it that you glow?"

       Malkaris chuckles slightly, placing a hand on the boy's hair

"I'm a relic from the past of our people, child.  I study the magical arts as your ancestors did so many eons ago."

      It was the girls turn to chime in, her curiosity endearing, as her large eyes stared up at Malkaris in wonder

"B-but, the elders say that magic is bad! that it corrupts!"

      Malkaris removes his hood, his long black hair falling out and down over his shoulders. He gives the children a sly smile..

"The elders have been spending too much time with the humans, who are so easily corrupted. Did you know that Azshara..."


(http://www.facebook.com/pages/Future-Wo ... 12225 
click on "Messengers of Destruction")

Malkaris was cut off by a very angry Mother who had come to retrieve her children...

"Do not speak of that one! What are you doing speaking lies into the ears of my children?!" The woman was fit, possibly a sentinel... an observation made as she stood in front of her young like an angry lioness.

The children shouted in protest at the treatment of their new friend, which the mother silenced quickly.
Malkaris smiled at her, bringing his hood back up, darkness trailing him as he slowly turned around, hand up in a gesture of farewell. His robes parted slightly, allowing the mother to catch sight of the Grim colors. Her eyes went wide with horror as she did, and Malkaris's grin only became wider as he moved to his Dreadsteed.

"Guard them close. This world will change one day and will finally be in the hands of it's rightful handlers once again. Our people, child. Some will struggle and wither away, victims to the ravages of time. Others will fall to our renewed might. Imagine that... a world where your children will actually be safe."

Malkaris gave her one last look, his smile softening slightly as she looked at him then at her children.

"Guard them close, child... Elune may have cursed me, but if she has half of the mercy and love for our people the druids claim, perhaps a better future for us lie in their hands."

The mother gave him an uncertain look before shepherding the children away, holding them tightly and at the same time hesitantly waving the guards off, yelling, "He is Kaldorei! He is Kaldorei!".

Malkaris looked further towards the ocean, seeing a vision of myrilease walking across the frigid waters, smile on her face as she mouthed, "Once upon a time... you would have killed them."

Malkaris shook his head slowly, "Rarely is it ever so simple." he whispers as he continues his little stroll.