The Perfect Source - Written by Seraphiel Ros'VorontirEdit

The perfect source of Arcane Power. The most powerful source of pure arcane power known to the world and there i was, standing before it, energy i could feel roaring around the mountain as i stared into the water of the Well.

My body, my mind, my heart, my soul. Everything about me was calling out to the power of the Well. It was so seductive, it was like nothing i had ever felt, and it was all mine to behold, the silence was beautiful as i closed my eyes and i could see the Arcane Fire of pure power burning in a blaze of glorious magnitiude, calling out to my body to contain it.

I growled softly, opening and closing my hands, my black, clawlike nails digging into my skin, trying to wake me from my trance. I was a fish, a fish in a pool of nothing, i was hungry and alone, i was frail, fickle and on the brink of extinction, then the bait falls infront of me like a glowing oricle of survival. It forced me to bite.

Tendrils of arcane power surrounded me as i took it like a Scourge feeding on the flesh of the living, i was ravenous, cold, greedy and lustful as i took the power and horded it for myself, my insanity drove me to become a mindless being of magical hunger, close to becoming what our people feared and hated.

I couldn't stop, like a vampire i sucked from the lifeblood that was currently the force of the Well. I was consumed, my eyes became white, pure power surged through my veins as i erupted in a fury of power, i gasped, dropped to my knees as the power seems to crackle through my body, taking over every fibre of my being.

I've become weak, desperate, handicapped by the power of the Well of Eternity, i've drunk from the pool of perfection, and my lips wern't pure enough to grace its waters and thus it has punished me. I've become reliant on the well, a slave to its power. Only time will tell how far i'll fall

A Boy's FearsEdit

The gloom surrounded him completely. He could hear the cackling laughter coming from shadow nearby. A voice began counting down. It drew closer. When it reached zero a finger traced down his face in the dark, the stench of death assaulting his senses. He froze. His heart raced as he held his breath. He knew he should hide himself but the fear was primal. He couldn't move. There was no one to come save him, no reassuring voice whispering in his head to spur him on. He was alone.

"The sunlight has found me boy" The voice mocked. "I"m coming for you"

A cold blade traced across his throat. It cut his skin but no deeper. The boy screamed.

He sat up sharply attempting to draw his blade and defend himself. It was not under his pillow. He panicked and turned to search for it as he clutched at his throat. Instead his eyes found Seraphiel sleeping peacefully. He sighed with relief and slumped back down on the bed.

It had been a long time since he'd had the nightmare. He was no longer a boy and he'd not had any bad dreams since they'd moved to this house. Seraphiel turned over and nestled in to him. He smiled softly and gazed up at the stars which shone through the protective dome around their home. His blade wasn't there as he'd never need it here. They were safe.

End of ServiceEdit

"The line has been drawn, and I have crossed over it. There is no going back." Kelu slowly scanned down the roster ticking off names. Extended leave... retired... illness... absent without leave... He stopped and peered at the few names left on the list. None of the agents left operated directly for The House, he was not directly responsible for them. He closed the log book and paced the room. He should scout for new agents. He should step up the training programme. He should be doing anything but pacing this room waiting for the lost sheep to come home.

His main worry was Seraphiel. He had brought him in to the Flying Daggers to keep him close. He was not well. Kelu realised now it had been a mistake. The Archrions were in some sort of trouble again and Alaister had called for his aid in Nagrand, he was torn. Should he rush to their aid putting his life on the line for them again? If something happened to him Seraphiel would be alone.

Nirenya appeared on the brow of the hill and passed through the dome in to the house. Quietly she checked on Seraphiel as he slept and blessed him with prayer and spiritual strength. Only when she was done did she greet him. She was upset. Her new comrades had attacked Darnassus, Northwall had warned her of their ruthlessness but she hadn't realised things would be so bad. He watched her wringing her tabard in her hands, fighting back the tears. She was frightened of what might happen to her through being associated with them. He looked from her to Seraphiel, they both needed him.

"Take that off" He told her calmly. She handed the tabard to him with a confused look. He wandered to an old trunk and took out a peice of black cloth. It had a red tree embroidered on it. He passed it to her.

"Do you remember this?" He asked her.

"Yes, grandmother made it." Nirenya ran her fingers over the tree and smiled.It was a tapestry of the two family trees of Ros'Vorontir and D'Seregon Sorielhad made as a wedding present for Ehzri and Gaelyn. She examined it carefully as he read the names of all the dead relatives. Only a few she knew survived. He opened his arms to embrace her, "It's time we pulled the family together, time to stand on our own."

A Child's Betrayal.Edit


Pressing down.

Nothing more.

For eternity.

He lay there waiting.

Scratching. Growling.

A searing shard of of light, then a full blast of brilliance assaulting his dystrophic eyes. More scratching and digging, then savage tugging at his arm.

He was being dragged from the ground, roughly jerked out of it. A grisly crunching sound tormented his ears after his eternity of blessed silence.

He tried to raise his arm to his eyes to shield them, nothing moved. Gradually he became aware of his surroundings. Snow. He was frozen solid in the snow, and there was some animal chewing his arm.

A gunshot echoed from somewhere, the animal slumped forward on top of him. Now he felt the heat from it's last breath seeping through to his frozen skin.

Heavy footsteps trudging through the snow brought hearty laughing closer to him. Barking and whining from dogs at their heals. Still blinded by the sheer whiteness, still frozen by the eternal chill, he waited.

Two voices, their language familiar. He knew it but his sluggish brain failed to understand it. It was not his mother tongue. Two shapes shadowed over him like two short stout demons blocking out the light. They prodded at him and jeered. He couldn't feel it nor understand their jibes. Joyfully they dragged the animal away, he could hear their preparations, the slicing of flesh, the kindling of fire. The smell of raw meat tormented him. He wanted it. He waited

Blessed nightfall dimmed the land. He had spent the whole day lying there. His back against the snow, his feet still buried and the sun blazing down on his face. Slowly he turned his head. The two dwarves lay sleeping in the cave, snoring loudly. The carcass of the animal on a spit over a dying fire. It's white fur skin stretched out on a frame near the fire. He turned his head the other way. Paw prints from the dogs leading away from the cave, he could hear their howling in the distance.

He forced himself to sit up slowly. He reached forward to dig his feet out of the earth, then he saw his hands. Rotten flesh, bones protruding. Horrified he silently examined himself. The boy, the boy had done this. One of the dwarves snorted in his sleep and rolled on to his side, letting out a beery blast of wind. Desperately Dolen struggled and dragged himself out of the ground. He stumbled forward on to his knees, his feet still frozen. He knelt there waiting in the open, feeling exposed. Images of the boy filtered through his thoughts. One moment he was smiling at him, then his expression changed to fear and the boy disappeared. Disappear. He slipped in to the shadows.

This was his skill, his thawing mind nagged at him. He needed a weapon. Scanning forward to the cave his eyes settled on the carcass over the fire. A carving knife and fork stuck out from it's rump end. Silently he crawled through the snow to claim them. The dwarves still snored on. He peer at the charred meat, he should eat something but this did not appeal to him. Greedily he turned to the dwarves. He leapt silently to the dwarf sleeping on his side, swiftly thrusting the blade and fork in to his back piercing his lungs. The dwarf gasped and writhed, his companion laughed drunkenly in his sleep. Dolen withdrew the blade and drove it in again making the the dwarf wheeze, using his legs he pushed the dwarf on to his front pressing down with his weapons. eventually he stopped squirming and gave up the struggle.

Behind him the other dwarf started muttering and shuffling about. He screamed loudly and rushed towards Dolen, drunkenly over stepping his mark and falling flat on his companion's bloody body. Dolen rolled out of the way retrieving his butcher's knife as he stumbled back. The dwarf's roar of fury was answered by dogs barking frantically in the distance, as he held his head back yelling Dolen leapt at him. He slashed him across the throat splicing him open then vanished in to the shadows.

The dwarf shrieked in horror and held his hand to his neck trying to stem the flow. He coughed and spulttered as his blood sprayed around the cave, then fell to his knees twitching. Dolen stood in the back of the cave. Standing in the shadows was futile, he was coated in the blood of the dwarves. The dogs barking and yelping got louder.

Desperately he scanned the cave. Shotgun. It slipped through his bloody fingers as he grabbed at it, glancing up the dogs could be seen racing over the brow of the hill opposite the cave. He reached up and wiped his hands on the furskin and tried again. He checked it, it was loaded. He took aim. He waited.

The shot echoed through the cave deafening him, the force of it throwing him back over. He scrambled to his knees taking aim again, one dog down. It lay in the snow a heap of matted fur and a wild spray of blood. The other one was at the mouth of the cave. It leapt at him white teeth baring down on him. With no time to fire he shoved the gun sideways in to the dog's mouth. It bit down on cold steel. It whined and shifted it's bite going for his exposed throat. He struggled and kicked as it closed it's teeth around him, his fingers found the trigger and he fired off a shot.

The dog yelped in fright, the sound tearing at it's ears, it backed off now cornered in the back of the cave. Dolen shifted his grip on the gun, grasping the barrel he slowly stood and glared at the cowering dog. He swung the shotgun, swiping at the dog. he caught it's jaw with the stock full on. The dog fell with a surprised yelp.

He stood admiring his work and laughed, a long scratching cackle. He peeled his fingers from the barrel of the gun, some of his thin rotten flesh seared to it, he cast it aside. As the exhilaration of the kill faded, the warm smell of blood reached him. Nodding slowly to the still twitching dwarf he approached him and fell to his knees. He had no skill in skinning dogs, and no desire for coughing up furballs. The dwarf's eyes widened in horror as Dolen leaned over him drooling.

Satiated he left the cave, scanned the landscape. A walled town lay just on the horizon. Everlook. He had tracked the boy here, the fool had been hiding. He closed his eyes as an image of the boy floated through his mind. He had long dark hair which was blowing in the breeze, he was smiling up at him. He opened his eyes again and and raised his gnawed arm to examine it. The boy would pay for his betrayal.

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