Here it is folks, the last installment of Dark Summonings. If you’ve not been reading thus far, the story progresses as follows:
Since Arrens can’t currently access his blog at work, this is Anna, posting for him. And, since I’ve got the ability to temporarily hijack his blog, I figure I can tell him thanks publicly here. This has been an unbelievable thing to write – both from the first nudges of the idea back in November (yes, it really was that long ago), to filling in the holes in the story, to figuring out just how much trouble we could get Arrens into. It’s been fun, but also challenging, and I’m really pretty darn proud of this. Which is funny, since I’ve only done about 30% of the actual writing – most of this is Arrens in all his writerly awesomeness.
So thanks – for the late night conversations, the multiple google documents, the emailing back and forth to sort through plot while one or the other of us couldn’t actually be working on it at the same time. I can’t wait to see where things go from here.
And, just on a hunch? After the last week in game? It’s only going to be awesome.
<3
-Anna
*****
Arrens awoke the next morning still wracked with a mixture of exhaustion and pain. His entire body, down to the follicles of his hair, ached. He dragged a hand across his face and noticed the bandages and splints. Breathing was a chore, his ribs broken or bruised, he couldn’t be certain.
He looked around. He knew at first glance he was in some kind of barn. Covered in a thick fur blanket and a stove roaring with flame, the air was warm. Aely walked in from the outside with a feed bucket in hand. Arrens’ voice croaked, “M…my love?”
She smiled, sitting down next to him. “‘lo, sleepy. ‘m glad t’ see yir awake.”
He said one word. “Water.”
Aely turned and grabbed a small container of water from her pack. Holding it to his lips, he drank greedily, water spilling from the corner of his lips until he started choking. She set the container down. “Where…where am I?” he asked.
“Careful, dinna drown yirself. There’s plenty. Wir at th’ farm in Hillsbrad. In th’ barn, if ye’d no’ guessed it from seein’ Maera there.” She helped him sit up a little, stuffing another quilt and a pillow behind him.
He winced as he sat up. Looking down at himself, he couldn’t help but be reminded of the troll mummies he had seen in Zul’Drak. “What the fel happened?”
She laughed. “I figured ye migh’ be able t’ answer me tha’. Yva named ye proper an’ summoned ye back when ye called f’r help, an’ ye came through th’ portal half dead. Ye’ve go’ arcane burns on both hands, a broken finger, an’ some kind ay nasty netherburn on yir arm. All yir left ribs are bruised, an’ I think ye may ha’ broken yir cheekbone. Very least, sommat smacked ye in the head righ’ proper. Yir lip is bloody, an’ I dinna think ye’ve had anythin’ t’ drink or eat in some time. Ye’ve been asleep f’r close t’ two days, an’ ye’ve a proper fever.”
He looked down at his left arm; heavy bandages wound around his bicep. Sniffing it, he said, “I…I smell Liferoot, Steelbloom and Wintersbite. The burn…”
“’s one ay th’ worst I’ve seen. ’s no’ infected, but it may need t’ be cleaned out again. It’s… like t’ leave ye a proper scar. I’ll do as best I can wi’ it.”
“It…it wasn’t just some horrid dream then, was it? I…I didn’t just imagine it all…” His head drooped and his eyes started to water. “Aely, I…I did something…or thought I did something…terrible. I’m not…I’m not sure what’s real or not anymore….”
“Yir here, an’ safe. I’m real. This place’s real. Best we c’n tell, ye spent th’ last weeks in th’ Nether – where things are no’ what they seem. Promise. Dinna think o’ermuch about it, yeh? We’ll get it all sorted. Ye need t’ rest, an’ mend. ’s why I brought ye here.” She kissed his forehead gently, running her fingers through his hair. Arrens involuntarily flinched away from the touch, wincing in pain before settling back down.
Aely pulled away. “Ligh’, I… ‘m sorry, I dinna mean t’…” She reached out to touch his face again and then hesitated. “I’m sorry, Love. ‘m sorry.”
He looked at her bleakly, his face full of pain and confusion. “No, no, it’s just…gods…” He slumped back down causing a sharp pain to shoot along his left side. He groaned in pain before continuing. “Aely, I…I killed you. With my own magic, I killed you. And Tarquin. I saw it. I remember it all. That was no dream. I used real magic, arcane magic, to engulf you, Tarquin and myself in flames! This…this can’t be real!” His voice began to strain with panic.
Aely blinked, hesitating before she spoke again, as though she wasn’t sure what to say. “Love – it’s a’right. I’m here. Ye dinna kill anyone. If it burned ye as well, how did ye live? Why would ye try an’ kill me anyway? Settle yirself, yeh? It’s a’right.”
“No, godsdammit!” he yelled. “It’s not alright!”
Slowly and painfully, he pushed himself away from her, managing to sit up. “Don’t you see? You’re /dead/! This can’t be real! This…this is a trick. That’s what this is. A trick!” His eyes darted around the room as he searched for the hidden hints that would prove this was all another fel dream, a look of panic creeping along the edges of his face. “You’re….you’re a ghost, that’s what you are! Come back to haunt me! I…I won’t have it, Aely! Get away from me!” He tried scrambling backwards in an attempt to get up. Each movement caused sharp pains from each of his numerous wounds, and he became more and more pale with each passing second.
Aely’s face ran a gamut of expressions, from confusion to shock to fear, finally settling on something like horror. Still, as soon as he tried to push himself up to stand, she moved quickly, wrapping herself around him, one arm behind his shoulder, the other around his back, effectively pinning him beneath her, murmuring into his shoulder about not making his injuries worse. He screamed and fought, bandaged hands vying for purchase along her back, grabbing handfuls of her hair and tearing at her shirt, until what little strength he had gave out, and he lapsed back into unconsciousness.
He did not hear her sobs.
*****
He woke some time later feeling groggy and ready to sleep again. Darkness had settled over Hillsbrad, the only light coming from a small lantern and the the faint glow from the stove provided a means to see around him. Aely stood nearby, facing away from him while she got herself ready to sleep. As she pulled her torn shirt over her head, he saw her back, rippled with scars; the scars she had shown him what seemed like a lifetime ago and which were still a part of her she hid at every turn.
Scars.
Again the image of Aely and Tarquin flashed through his mind; long, thieves fingers gliding up the smooth skin of her back, stopping to tilt her head back at him. He was certain he had killed them both, but there had been no scars there. Her voice had no inflection either, no Lordaeron brogue.
A dream…
As the realizition struck him, he fell asleep once more.
*****
Arrens woke to find Aely sleeping soundly next to him and the sun just beginning to break in the distant horizon, soft rays of light peeking through the barn windows. He stretched slowly taking account of what still hurt and what was finally starting to feel better. His left side ached dully, but to his surprise did not give the sharp pangs he had expected.
He propped himself up and looked at his hands. The bandages had been replaced some time over the course of the night, the dressings clean and free of any bloody stains. He carefully removed the bandage from his left hand and inspected it. He could smell the salve that Aely had placed upon it the night prior. Unable to see any noticable scar tissue, he flexed his hand and curled it into a fist. It caused no pain at all. He started the same procedure with his right hand before feeling the splint around his middle finger. Erring on the side of caution, he replaced the dressing as it had been in order to allow it to set properly.
Arrens looked down at his left arm. The large bandage was still there, stained slightly. He sighed deeply and left it alone.
He looked down at the sleeping form beside him. Aely’s back was turned to him, long strands of loose red hair covering her face. Gods, she’s beautiful, he thought. He carefully brushed several of the loose strands of hair back and bent down to kiss her carefully on the cheek.
She startled awake, smiling and turning towards him. Her smile faded within seconds, and she looked at him uneasily. “I… Love?”
He smiled warily and lightly dragged his hand across her face. “I…I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything. For…for scaring you, for leaving you, for…” He took a deep breath in an attempt to regain his composure. “I…I know what happened. Or, rather, I think I do. The Nether. It…it wasn’t a dream. At least, most of it wasn’t. I was there. I was summoned to the Twisting Nether by an Eredar named…”
“Kro’thar,” she said.
“Yes. Kro’thar. He…he attempted to make me serve him. And in doing so interjected visions in my mind. Visions of…of me…hurting you. I’m not certain why. Perhaps as a means to break me from all I hold dear in my life. Perhaps merely to be a vile, vindictive son of a succubus. I’m don’t know. But…but the fever…” He slumped down slightly, unable to look at her for fear of breaking down.
Aely hesitated for a moment, and then sat up. “I… it’s a’right. I’m fine, an’ ye are nearly so. An’ by th’ look of ye, th’ fever’s broken too. It’s a’right, love.” She wrapped her arms around him carefully.
Arrens hugged her back, holding her as hard as his injuries would allow. He buried his head in her hair and told the story from the beginning, as best he could remember it, from the fel-tainted dream of Kro’thar bringing him to his knees in class to giving full descriptions of how Stormwind was perceived, to him setting her apartment ablaze with arcane fire after catching her in bed with Tarquin. “When…when I woke, I…I saw a succubus and a felguard. They were joined together, but they were burned nearly beyond recognition. I…I wonder if I caused that. If they were, perhaps, the visual representations of…of what was in that dream.”
“I… dinna ken. It’s possible, e’en probable really. Ye carry wounds frae a dream, so it serves wha’ ye could also do damage there. I dinna understand how th’ Nether works, an’ after all tha’? I’m no’ sure I’ve any desire t’ ken. ’specially since I’ve been hearin’ ye an’ sommat e’en feelin’ injuries since ye … left.” She let him lean against her as they talked.
“No, I’d not wish /anyone/ to go there. When…when we were able to talk while I was there, I was still uncertain if…if it was the real you or if it was merely my mind playing tricks on me again. But I…I think I’ve figured it out. Before I was summoned away, I…I linked our souls. Have you noticed anything else untowards besides being able to communicate with me?”
Aely nodded, pulling back from him slightly so he could see her hands. She channeled Light into them, watching as the golden glow saturated her skin. Frowning, she stopped and tried again, but everything seemed normal about her spellwork.
“Is… something wrong? Were you unable to harness the Light?”
She shook her head. “No, ’s just tha’… well, when ye wir gone, I had wee shadowy cobwebs under th’ glow, like there was sommat oan my skin. It started when ye left, so it’d make sense wha’ it was th’ same thing tha’ let me hear ye… ‘cept it’s back t’ normal now. I’m no’ sure wha’ t’ make ay it.”
He looked at her with mild surprise. “I’m…I’m sure it’s nothing to be concerned with, my love. If you’d like, I’ll do some research on it once we return to Stormwind.” Aely nodded, and he continued. “Until then, would it be too horrible of me to ask that you simply lay with me and…hold me a while? I’ve missed you, my love.”
Fluffing up the pillows behind her, Aely scooted back slightly, letting Arrens settle himself next to her, his head nestled against her shoulder. “Love, I’ve naught t’ do bu’ get ye mended an’ well. I’ve missed ye, an’ we both need th’ rest. We can stay here ’s long as ye like.”