Hushed voices in solemn tones could barely be heard as Veil Ala'rak's shadows converged.
A firm, pronounced voice called out higher than the others, "Shadows gather..." reiterated the age-old phrase.
"There is no raven," interrupted an anonymous, agitated voice.
The rustling of feathers could be heard shifting uneasily behind an apparent, disguised group.
"Why," asked the first voice, "Do we hide? What more can we fear? The Orcs have consumed us. Our hated enemies are dead, but they were not brought to justice in any conceivable method. We are broken."
"Oh," rasped the agitated figure, "You speak only of what we already know. You are a fool. My feathers cannot take this humidity much longer without pruning. Be it far from us that anyone should listen to a fool's folly. Run your mouth, but I will not be here to listen for much longer."
Shadows fleeted from the original figure. "You have not seen me for some time," another flash of heat-lightning struck across the sky, and the hidden voice revealed the old sage, Iskar.
"You," cried the other voice, now sounding earnestly defeated, "You betrayed us at our critical moment. We should lay our hands on you and stone you, then let the Scions of Sethe consume your blood."
There was a brief murmur of agreement from among the veil.
"So be it," spat Iskar, "But first, hear as I say."
"You have my attention. Speak your will, it could be your last," the second voice muttered whimsically.
Iskar, despite his broken limp, took to stepping closer towards a more open area, further from the protection of the veil's shadows and more towards the light. The heat-lightning blanketed the sky once again, and made even his bleak purple plumage a bitter reminder of a glory long since lost by the Arakkoa. "I, Iskar, Shadow-Sage of the Arakkoa, lived among you."
"I doubt that," the skeptical voice refuted, "We saw the Shattered Hand Clan bind you in chains, gut you, and offer your beak to the Laughing Skull Clan. You had followers, and now they live apart from us in Blade's Edge." The veil, for the first time since the agitated voice initially spoke, grew eerily silent in an aggrieved recollection of those events. "I had," the voice continued, "I had... once thought you were a hero among us. You were either disguised, as some of us do - which was how I imagined you may have survived - or you are an impostor trying to reunite us under some nostalgic banner from the days of old."
The Shadow-Sage's brow grew cross. "I bear no disguise among you, I betrayed you not, I am who you know me to be."
"You are full of contradictions," came the skeptic's voice, "You claim to know us, yet you are apart from us. You sought to gather us, yet you divided us. You are a failure in your people's own eyes. There is no credibility with you."
"What, then, do you know of me," inquired Iskar.
The voice hesitated for a moment. "You dragged us out into our homeland now. You played tricks on the Draenei to kill the Adherents who chased us, but this I only grant because you foreknew how they would treat our flying brothers and sisters. You died at the hands of the Shattered Hand, who carried you far away. Your most trusted people followed you, and so we have been divided. Talon King Ikiss came to save us. The followers of Sethe emerged at a time when those not seeking to leave our sacred homeland would retake the holy city of Skettis for us. US! You had no such vision. Look at us now, is it true we are restored?"
Iskar lifted a wing, and stirred the elements of wind and shadow. The veil lifted before the wind and those who were hidden were revealed. A surprisingly large audience of Arakkoa had heard the stirring of Iskar. The Arakkoa, the lost children of Outlands, were suddenly starkly clear to him. A deep, gut-clenching sense of grief washed over Iskar. His elongated talons grabbed at the gizzard as if in physical pain. "You," Iskar quivered in mourning, "You call this restored?! Who restored you? Sethe? He lied to us, he plotted against us, and he clipped us. Driving our minds into starkness... we became the hated exiles of this world."
Some of the Arakkoa standing next to the skeptic edged away from the one who threw accusations against the Shadow-Sage. The outspoken shrugged, but pursued his case nonetheless. "Ikiss subdued the great god Anzu."
The Shadow-Sage clicked his beak with utmost disdain and concern, "Did he clip the wings, too?"
The community answered in an almost rehearsed sounding tone, "Yes." The heat-lightning flashed once more, brightening the dark faces of anguish from among the Arakkoa.
The skeptic spoke, "I, Lakka, was imprisoned by my brother, Syth. Ikiss brought us into captivity within the shattered temple of Auchindoun. Our plan? Restore the gods to their glory, bring the dead back to fight as an army, and flee quickly when the Draenei occultists arrived.
I was released from my prison at the will of my brother, who once lived among us here in Skettis, and he insisted I live in Shattrath. Yes, Shattrath, the city of the Draenei. We were told we were welcome, and that we would be safe. Safety, yes, but the Arakkoa there were too complacent. They forsook their ancient ways in favor of that which was newer. We sought peace, but should have been uppermost. We should have come back. I, Lakka, have been in Skettis in disguise ever since." Lakka stopped speaking for a moment to view the crowd. The expressions revealed stunned horror.
"You heretic. You blasphemer," proclaimed a masked Arakkoa Soulcaller from among the crowd. "You were imprisoned for your deviation. You followed not in the ways of the discourse of Sethe. Your disbelief in Ikiss caused us to fail. You should be the one we kill, not the Shadow-Sage."
Iskar stared in surprise at the sudden betrayal of Lakka's people against him. "You call for unity, yet you want to kill?"
The plea was heard by several other Arakkoa. Some among the crowd began to return to the upper veil, away from the conflict. A foreboding howl pierced all throughout the Skethyl Mountains, a western wind from the ruins of Auchindoun was stirring up a storm. A few devoted remained, utterly intrigued by the events of the gathering.
Lakka sighed deeply, realizing the profoundly new danger he was put in, "Yes, yes, we care not of unity. If we did, then we would not be so prone to sacrifice. Listen to my tale, and know of Anzu's subduing. You, too, shall know why we betrayed him, our Talon King and guide," Lakka's arm extended and with his talon uttered a phrase from the Sethekk's sorcery. The shadows shifted, pulling the energy from the world, and revealed a stark conflict:
A vision of Auchindoun's halls manifested to echo a lament.
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Anzu grew weary and in the clash of tempests shed his pinions.
He (Ikiss) took a throw-stick to follow his arrows,
And cut off the Raven's pinions, detached both right and left.
Anzu saw his wings and emitted his utterance.
But as he shouted 'Wing to wing' a shaft came up at him
A dart passed through his very heart."H-h-how," Iskar wondered audibly, "How can we have fallen so far? How did we come to cast our lot with an evil god?"
The loyalists of Sethe, unable to take anymore of the vision, muttered an enchantment to destroy the illusion of Auchindoun.
"Why," asked Lakka, "Why do you do this?"
"We believed in him," one replied, "Ikiss died because of you both. We lost everything in total division because of you both. You should both leave, and hide your faces within Shattrath, or we will be narrow in our ways of dealing with you."
Iskar straightened his back, now at full height and awareness, "Now then, it has become clear to me there was never any unity through Sethe. He maimed you all, and the hope Ikiss brought you was... misguided. Your decisions seemed reasonable, as you explain them, but good intentions provides downfall. You have bent a knee to a blind leader; he who was more crazed than Rukhmar's adherents. The Arakkoa of Outlands are lost."
The Sethekk, tired of hearing Iskar's testimony, left in great numbers. Lakka, a few of Anzu's stunned loyalists, and the Shadow-Sage remained. Lakka tapped his talons against his robes, "Outlands," he reminisced coldly. "Why do you make such a distinction?"
Iskar's eyes brightened with excitement. "Our hopes have been renewed. Depart from this grief stricken world, and join me. Where I come from, I am not dead, rather... Ikiss has fallen in exchange for a future better than this place. I see now how blind loyalty to our deceptive gods provided discord from among us."
Lakka's tone grew cold, "Do not speak of your ways here. We have to retreat quickly." Lakka and Anzu's followers scurried behind the Shadow-Sage.
"Aha," cried out a devoted Sethekk from among the upper veil's tents. "The traitors have gathered in number. Slay them. Slay them for Ikiss, the Talon King, and his god."
The trees gnarled and buckled under themselves, revealing hulking Talonbranch Forest treants.
Fear grew and overtook those who heard Iskar. Iskar looked to them, "Fear not, we will be safe with the shadows." An outstreched arm etched lost divinities to put them away from the trees. The shadow realm was dark, cold, and foreboding. Iskar did not trust whatever could have happened to it, but they fleeted quickly through the Skethyl Mountains out of the sight of the enraged treants. The Sethekk summoned incantations, shadowfiends, who were spotted to be following close behind. He looked to them, and Lakka bellowed as one wrapped its hideous tendrils around his arm. The Shadow-Sage immediately rushed to Lakka's aid and summoned all the strength he could to rip off the first creature, but other followers started to be beaten down themselves as plumes of smoke revealed dozens of shadowfiends from all directions.
"You heretics. Burn in the shadowflame," a Sethekk Oracle cried out.
Iskar conjured his full concentration to disperse the shadowfiends, but there were too many. He had never seen a group so concentrated under the control of any talonpriests. Darker magics were at play, and he happened to spot from the corner of his eye a skull pile. Obvious, thought Iskar, the Sethekk used sacrifices as bait for the shadowfiends. An Arakkoa breathed his last as a Sethekk's arrow pierced his skull while two shadowfiends constricted his lungs.
"We cannot stay here any longer," Lakka pleaded.
The Shadow-Sage nodded in full agreement, and lifted the shadows from around them. A fierce wind blew, which deterred the Kaliri, and lightning dispersed the Shadowfiends from the material world. Iskar looked to see some of the Sethekk scowling in utter hatred at the adversaries.
Taking a deep breath, Iskar called out for Dread Ravens he took with him. From the shadows, the ancient protectors of the Arakkoa descended upon the Sethekk, and the lot was quickly shredded by the talons of the majestic beasts. Lakka and his followers immediately realized why Ikiss clipped Anzu's wings. Such great creatures had been powerful, but by the wicked authority of the wrong leader, such strength diminished significantly.
A ferocious downpoor hit the desolate, dry-dust fields of Auchindoun. Iskar took to drawing the Dread Ravens near, he had to vacate before the storm hit. Intending originally on uniting the denizens of Skettis, Iskar realized these people were too far gone to be restored just yet. Those with him leaped eagerly on the backs of the ancient beasts, others were grabbed by the talons, and the flock retreated to a place far from Skettis. A place where a better future could be formed.
