#DWC 1122
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Daily Writing Challenge: Day 6 - Home
[This lore is a part of Erozikith's story during the three-year peacetime after the events of mortals' meddling in the Shadowlands, a few weeks before the Tarts After Dark.]
TW: Sensual Mentions, Light Eroticism
The leisurely rise in the hustle and bustle of the Headquarters each morning pulls Erozikith gently from his slumber. He blinks -- or whatever the equivalent is with a nictitating membrane -- away the sleep and slowly brings himself out from under the patterned blanket that was growing warm with the early rays from the window. A stretch here, a yawn there, pulling on fresh pants and a Tart vest, he's ready to take on the new day!
He starts in the kitchen, tongue flicking curiously as he picks up the scents of all the various foods to keep the Troupe going. He then focuses a bit more and sees Deagra sipping coffee by the counter and he greets her with a delighted wave. "Hello!"
The Dark Iron gives a polite nod. "Good morning, Erozikith."
Content with the greeting, his attentions return to all the food. He had eaten a turkey earlier in the week, but a snack would keep the edge away until the next week! He spies a carton of fresh eggs and picks one up, carefully cracking it open and pouring the contents into his maw.
Deagra shrugs. 'Must be a cultural things these surfacers do.' She thinks.
Renthios, who just steps into the doorway with another fresh carton, watches for a moment. 'Must be a Sethrak thing.' He thinks, setting the new eggs on the table beside the previous ones.
Erozikith isn't greedy, and gives his puppy smile to his friends (and hugs, of course, if they so wish!) before waving and going on his merry way.
Celedyn is there, too! He's brought Gertrude and the Sethrak is delighted. He loves the little pudgy creature, giving all the pets and very gentle squishes. "Her fur is always soft!" He muses brightly.
"Of course~!" The High Elf responds, watching over the Sethrak and his lovely little pug. "Only the best for Gertrude~ She always looks so darling in her little bath cap~" His sultry tone is broken only slightly by charming giggles.
A little chirp takes the Sethrak's attention and he hums curiously, bringing an iComm from his belt. He presses the button to have the received message read out to him.
“Sarcyon says: Hello, Eroz! Are you in Headquarters? I'm here!"
Erozikith nods, an excited hiss leaving him before pressing the button to respond. "I will sssee you soon!" In his excitement, however, he scratches the screen with his claws and leaves a small mark to join many others. He winces at the sharp sound and pouts only a little. He would have to ask Caythaes for another replacement screen.
Gently, the Sethrak picks up the chunky pug to set her down on the floor so he could stand up. "I'll see you later, Celedyn!" He beams, giving his elven friend a good squeeze before making his way out to meet Sarcyon.
The Illidari, who had been waiting outside his room, is suddenly greeted with a wall of eager snake. He cannot help but to wheeze a bit of laughter, and hug his friend in return. "I've brought ramen! I hope you like it!"
Erozikith would never say no to another snack.
After tasty soup and toasty cuddles, Sarcyon would give one more big squeeze to his Sethrak friend before departing for a bit of performance practice. Sometimes, Erozikith would follow and watch, but today... He needs a new screen on his iComm before he hurts his fingers... again.
On his way to Cay's room, the Sethrak sees a familiar face in the halls. "Hi, Kazuro!" He cheers, running over for a hug.
"Hello, Erozikith." The Orc says with a smile, squeezing back tightly in return and letting go with a hearty slap to the Sethrak's shoulder. "I was just on my way to the kitchens. Want to join me?"
The squishy snake is very conflicted. He always likes more food but... "I can't..." He says with sad puppy eyes before brightening almost immediately, assuring his friend. "But next time!" He then darts off before he can get distracted again.
"See you later!" Kazuro calls after him, shaking his head with a soft smile.
Erozikith skids to a halt before the phoenix's door, toe-claws scratching the floor a little. He knocks and waits, head tipping this way and that as he watches for signs of acknowledgement. The door opens after a bit, revealing Cay in their outfit for a performance. Seems they're ready for practice, too!
"Hey, Erozikith." They greet with curiosity and maybe a bit of hurriedness. "What-- What brings you here?"
The Sethrak's expression turns from happiness to a bit of guilt. He hands over his iComm, the screen covered in scratches. "I need a new screen." He whimpers, looking like a scolded pup.
"A-again?" Caythaes asks, brow raised as they inspect the device. Their eyes shift to the Sethrak's claws, undoubtedly the culprit of the dilemma. "Hmmm." They hum softly in thought before stepping back. "I-I think I have an idea. Come in!" They beckon before turning to their desk, covered in bits and tools.
After a while, Erozikith leaves with a new screen on his iComm and claws coated in Tarts-pink silicone. "This sh-should help!" Cay had said, before all the air in their lungs left from Erozikith's sudden embrace. They weakly pat his back as he thanked them over and over, even giving a snoot boop to their forehead.
"Thanks, Cay! I'll see you sssoon!" He announces as he tucks his iComm away and starts for the practice hall. He hears music! It's the music Dicenne talked about!
He peeks his head in, watching as the stage fills with fog as a song comes to a close. As quietly as possible, scaled feet tip-toe across the floor. The little click-clack of claws don't hide him well.
His head tilts slightly as Dicenne emerges from the mist, clad in skin-tight dark leather. He appreciates the sight, however, his gaze settles on the whip at the Elf's hip. He seems nervous as it's unfurled, and the loud CRACK! makes him yelp and cower, covering his eyes. But then... soft. Many soft touches. He peeks out.
Feathers. He's covered in feathers as more rain down from the split pillow. He sneezes once as one lands on the tip of his nose. He enjoys the softness.
Erozikith's gaze follows Dicenne's and he now notices Sheizara is there too! He resists the urge to wave, not wanting to distract his friends from their practice. When things turn a bit heated, however, his scales flush a bright pink.
Now, he's no shrinking violet, but he doesn't think exhibitionism is for him. Not that he quite knows the words for it, he just knows he couldn't be so bold.
Another SNAP! of the whip, another flinch, but now there's a hat in his lap! He gently puts it on and claps delightedly.
Dicenne had been aware of the Sethrak's aversion to hard touches on his head, though he knows not why.
Out of the corner of his eye, Erozikith spots another friend! Ryland! But Ryland seems to be a part of Dicenne's performance as well, and... whoa. The Sethrak places his hands on his face, trying unsuccessfully to hide the deep red blush rising under his scales, but he can't help but watch. Stunning acrobatics and the vigorous removal of clothes, it's certainly a sight. Dicenne's only left in mesh shorts, and...
Oh, right, some elves have their mating parts on the outside. Huh.
At the end of the practice, Erozikith watches the see-through cloth fly from behind a curtain and he blinks as it lands on his snout. He gives a hearty round of applause, enchanted by the performance and eager to show his support.
His friends are so talented!
At the end of the night, Erozikith cannot hide the gaping yawn he gives. With a handful of enthusiastic good-night hugs and many promises for the morrow, he returns to his own room. Tired eyes glance over the knick-knacks and souvenirs from his friends, and it brings a smile to his weary snoot. Awaiting by his window, his favorite blanket sits amongst a cloth puddle, a gift from Pheonix and Barry during his first Winter's Veil with the Tarts.
The Sethrak wanders over and curls up, pulling the blanket over him and reveling in the warmth remaining from the day's sun. One last thought whispers in his mind as he falls asleep:
'This is the best home I ever had.'
~
@daily-writing-challenge
Mentions:
Deagra @deagra-wra
Renthios @renthios-duskblade
Celedyn @celedyn
Sarcyon @chillidari
Caythaes @mekandawn
Kazuro @kazuro-jadefist
Dicenne @dicenne
Sheizara @sheizara
Ryland @rylandfalkov
Pheonix @straightouttatheashes
Barry @disruptanddisturb
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Daily Writing Challenge: Day 2 - Illusion
[This lore takes place during Anzhin's marriage with Merius, almost a decade and a half before the current timeline.]
A pale golden crystal laid in Anzhin's hand, the color dimming with every weak pulse. He only grew more and more concerned, breath becoming ragged as his and Merius' future started crumbing before his eyes. "It's fading..." He murmured worriedly, looking from the crystal to his husband, his gaze terrified. "I... I don't know enough about this magic to charge it." His voice wavered, trying to hold back a frustrated cry that begged release.
Merius shook his head and brought his husband to his chest. "Easy, Little Goose, deep breaths." He encouraged in his deep, rumbling voice. "We will figure things out. You are very talented in the arcane, I have seen it! You just need to believe in yourself. We will find a way." He pressed a kiss to Anzhin's head, ran a hand through long ginger strands. "I know things seem..." He paused, trying to find a good choice of word. "...grim. But, we have each other." A gentle finger slid under the half-elf's chin and tilted his head up so their gazes could meet. "We can make it through anything."
Merius was perfect to Anzhin. He was tall, dark, and handsome... but also so kind, loving, and affectionate. He was a gentle soul that enjoyed playing violin in the quiet nights, mesmerizing the half-elf with the gorgeous melodies. He was a constant, a steady place to stand when the world started to inevitably shake. Every word he said, his husband believed without a doubt.
To the outside world, however, many would not think to look past the deep crimson skin and fel-tinted eyes. The world only saw an Eredar, but to Anzhin, this Eredar was his world.
The Mage worked tirelessly for weeks; studying, experimenting, anything for a solution. The nights when he fell asleep with his face against the page of some heavy tome, he would awaken to Merius either bringing tea and a fresh meal or sitting on the floor by his side with his horned head against his thigh, breath steady as he had fallen asleep with him. Many of those times, Anzhin may have accidentally awakened the Eredar while gently combing through onyx strands he so cherished. Then again, how could he have resisted?
The crystal had gone completely dim in the time it took, but it was no longer needed. Anzhin and Merius stood before the long mirror in their bedroom, watching their reflections. The ginger's appearance was the first to change: ears showing much longer than they were, eyes taking on a green glow and hiding their more human appearance, and -- of course -- the eyebrows, growing long and feather-like. He had done this many times, taking on the visage of one 'Anzael Mirthcrown.'
'Anzael's brow then furrowed in concentration and soon, Merius' appearance also started to change, while the half-elf retained his own disguise. Crimson skin turned to a dusky lavender, demonic scars were hidden, and the fel tint of his golden eyes faded and disappeared before shifting to a pale blue. Merius looked exactly as he did under the influence of the disguise crystal. For a long while, the duo could only stare in surprised, silent awe.
The silence was broken by a nervous, but relieved laugh. "I did it!" Anzhin said brightly. "I've managed simultaneous illusion!" He was triumphant! Merius could only laugh and share in the relief, picking up his husband and kissing him sweetly. The distraction was enough to break the magic on its first cast, but the Mage didn't care. He could practice later, he just wanted to celebrate a small victory with the love of his life.
With time and practice, the illusion-work became second nature, and Anzhin and Merius were safe on their little mundane adventures.
Except the Mage could have never foreseen what dangers and distractions the future would bring.
~
@daily-writing-challenge
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November 2022 Daily Writing Challenge Story List
11/20, Day 1 - Instinct/Neglect - Anzhin
11/21, Day 2 - Orbit/Illusion - Anzhin
11/22, Day 3 - Forest/Mortality - Anzhin
TW: Depression, a quote of Foul Language/Suggestiveness, sudden Violence
11/23, Day 4 - Children/Vision - Anzhin
11/24, Day 5 - Lush/Damage - Erozikith
TW: Emotional/Physical Abuse of a Child, Neglect, Mentalism, Pejorative Language
11/25, Day 6 - Home/Unnatural - Erozikith
TW: Sensual Mentions, Light Eroticism
11/26, Day 7 - Infatuation/Endless - Anzhin & Karakash
@daily-writing-challenge
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~Tunggu Apa Lagi?~ Ingin Menjadi Seorang Penulis dalam 30 Hari? Menjadi seorang penulis tidak boleh tanggung-tanggung. Seorang penulis yang hebat tidak hanya menghasilkan 1 atau 2 karya saja lalu berhenti. Mereka konsisten untuk menghasilkan karya agar nama dan karyanya selalu terkenang di benak pembaca. Sebut saja penulis JK.Rowling, Tere Liye, Asma Nadia, Habibburrahman El Shirazy, Raditya Dika, Dee Lestari dan masih banyak penulis terkenal lainnya. Produktifitas mereka dalam berkarya sudah tidak diragukan lagi. Apa yang membuat mereka begitu produktif? Mereka memiliki mental baik seorang penulis, yaitu HABIT. Ini adalah pondasi dasar dari skill apapun. Termasuk menulis. Mereka telah membentuk kebiasaan menulis hingga kebiasaan itu sudah mendarah daging. Bisa jadi skill awal mereka masih amatir. Namun karena berkomitmen untuk terus membiasakan menulis akhirnya tulisan mereka kini sudah mampu menyihir mata pembaca. Dan tahukah Anda apa kunci untuk membangun HABIT yang baik? Lingkungan! Yap, lingkungan yang ideal untuk membangun sebuah kebiasaan. Tapi lingkungan saja tidak cukup. And juga butuh tantangan. Habit + lingkungan + tantangan. 3 hal tersebut bisa Anda dapatkan dalam 1 kesempatan. 30 Days Writing Challenge atau 30 DWC hadir untuk membentuk kebiasaan menulis Anda. Selama 30 hari non stop habit menulis Anda akan kami gembleng. Apakah hanya membentuk kebiasaan saja? Tentu saja tidak! Hanya dengan 99.000 Anda akan mendapatkan keuntungan antara lain: 1. Tulisan Anda akan mendapat feedback atau penilaian dari sesama peserta dan mentor. 2. Anda akan mendapat materi dalam kelas online tentang kepenulisan sebanyak 5 kali. 3. Anda berhak mengikuti proyek menulis buku bersama atau disebut dengan Antologi. Ini akan menjadi karya perdana Anda! 4. Tergabung dalam lingkungan penulis dari seluruh penjuru Indonesia 5. Dan, masih banyak lagi. Info lengkap silahkan klik bit.ly/Info30DWCJilid8 30 DWC akan dimulai 20 Agustus 2017. Jadi, tunggu Apalagi! Gabung segera dengan 30 DWC dengan cara kirim : Nama_No HP_Domisili_Aktivitas_Email_MOtivasi Ikut 30 DWC. Kirim ke (WA: 0811 - 1122 - 080) Kami tunggu Anda berkembang dan bertumbuh bersama 30 DWC! (di Pena Rina's)
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Daily Writing Challenge: Day 3 - Mortality
[This lore is a part of Anzhin's story during the three-year peacetime after leaving the Shadowlands, sometime near the end of year three.]
TW: Depression, a quote of Foul Language/Suggestiveness, sudden Violence
A half-elf, bleary from sleep, wanders to the vanity beside his wardrobe. The growing brightness from enchanted lights is hidden by a scrim parting the room, keeping the shine from his lover still asleep in the mountains of cushions and fabrics that made his bed. On mornings like these, he looks a bit closer to his true age, especially when the glow catches the silvering strands of his hair.
'Has it really only been three years?' His thoughts whisper to him. 'Has it been three years since I lost my purpose? My job? My soul song?' He looks to one of many pictures and pieces of memory on the board on the wall cradling the vanity, the picture of Velathra and him at his last performance from three years past. 'I haven't sung with her since... We finally came up with a name for our partnership and we only used it once. She must be so disappointed in me.'
He puts a hand on his neck, looking at his sad reflection in the mirror. Even thinking to sing now makes his throat tight. Who is he? He's not a Diplomat for the Court of Night anymore, that job ended when mortals' meddling in the Shadowlands ended. He's not Starman, the singer has been silent for three long years, perhaps for forever.
Who is he? Who is Anzhin?
A half-elf that lost his meaning.
The self-loathing loop is broken by a gentle touch that gives him a start.
"Hey, babe... Are you okay?" Alathase whispers softly, draping his form over Anzhin, arms looping around the half-elf's neck. The cornsilk blond is so effortlessly pretty, petal-soft lips pressing to his boyfriend's cheek. "You look a little lost there... I'll make some tea, would you like that?"
Anzhin gives a demure nod, his voice barely above a hoarse croak. "Yes, please..."
Alathase nods in turn, slowly pulling himself away, but before he could get too far-- "What are your plans for today?" Anzhin asks, having turned and taken his hand. The Ranger smiles brightly in response. "Well, I was thinking I'd run some errands and spend some time with Evie tonight~ It's so rare our schedules actually work, you know?"
Anzhin nods, he understands. A smile even crosses his lips. Many of his partners are polyamorous themselves, and if they aren't, they understand that he himself certainly is. It's a comfort.
As Alathase disappears to the kitchen, Anzhin returns to looking at the vanity. His gaze fixes on those grey streaks again, pulling him back into the many thoughts that rattle in his mind. Such a change these simple strands bring into many of the relationships he has.
He has seen the fear in Zae'thas' gaze, the knowledge that the half-elf isn't as ageless as he is. He has also seen the so-calm sadness in Kelazen's face, understanding the passage of time, and the subtle concern in Vastherion's brow, the reminder that Anzhin is so very mortal. He's watched the panic in Allorian's face, the start of a desperate search for any sort of way to bargain with Death for him.
Jiroki's pity is rather visible to him, but he's assured himself that that is due to the trials and tribulations he's been going through to find his inner voice again while working with the Tarts.
Velathra, Velandrian, and Caythaes are rather unreadable about it, as their nature makes them nigh-immortal, and they know that anyone that isn't like them will age and die an eternity before they ever do. They are still quick to comfort him when the weight of his limited mortality bears down on him.
Aerien is indifferent to Anzhin's aging, finding it to be a rather minor detail. Alathase finds his 'graceful aging' to be especially attractive, saying, quote, "When all of this goes silver, I'm going to let you fuck me for a straight week."
It's a very wide range of emotions to deal with and comprehend. And there are still so many that he has yet to gauge a reaction from.
So, he sits. Pondering. With the help of a touch of illusion magic, he experiments. Different colors, with or without stubble, or a beard, maybe?
All ginger... It doesn't match his tired face anymore. It just looks like a man trying too desperately to cling to his youth. Away it goes.
Blond? Definitely doesn't match. Only for use with his Gremlin King costume.
He takes a breath... tries full silver. He grimaces, tinting his stubble to silver as well. It's... questionable. He tries a beard with it.
CRASH!!! The mirror shatters, a fist coated and embedded with shards of glass, the illusion gone.
Alathase rushes in with a worried noise, finding his boyfriend taking panicked breath and trembling, cradling a bloodied mess of a hand. "Ani, w-what?" He gently pulls him to stand, trying to bring him out of this shock-state. "Come on, where do you keep your first aid kit?" He could ask what happened later, once everything is calm again.
~
@daily-writing-challenge
Mentions and Credits:
Alathase
Zae'thas and Kelazen @jessephantomhive
Vastherion @danedrawn
Allorian
Jiroki @bread-elf
Velathra and Velandrian @dragonsiblings
Caythaes @mekandawn
Aerien @thecastcompany
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Daily Writing Challenge: Day 5 - Damage
[This lore is a part of Erozikith's story, long before the events of the Fourth War.]
TW: Emotional/Physical Abuse of a Child, Neglect, Mentalism, Pejorative Language
"Get OFF of me!" The elder Sethrak hissed, hood flared in irritation as he tore his arm from the child's grasp. "Enough!" A clawed hand wrapped behind his son's head, forcing them to meet eye-to-eye. "How many times have I told you, you little cretin, do NOT touch me!" With a harsh motion, the young Sethrak was thrown back, colliding with a small table. The resulting CRASH! of pottery only enraged the father further.
Erozikith whimpered softly as he held his head, feeling the cool red trails wet his fingers. "I'm sorry, Baba, I'm sorry..."
"Stop whining, you worthless imbecile!" 'Baba' sneered, not an ounce of pity in his cold iron gaze. "I have had enough of you. Get out of my sight."
It was difficult for the dazed child to find his footing, his tail only throwing him off further as he stumbled to his room. Awaiting in a pile below the window was small tattered blanket, stained with streaks of dried blood. This was Erozikith's only comfort, the remnant of a mother long gone and never met. He fell and curled into a small ball, pulling the pitiful cloth over his head to block out the moonlight that bloomed too bright.
When the morning came, the young snake awakened to hushed words.
"Warden, are you certain you want to do this? Shazan would have never approved of this," murmured an unfamiliar voice.
"He is retarded, Hezzex!" Erozikith's father hissed. "He is worthless, he will never amount to anything, and a Krolusk will do more work than he ever will!"
"He's just a hatchling, Zaspex. Your hatchling. You need to give him a chance." The one addressed as 'Hezzex' pleaded.
"My mind is made up!" The Faithless Elder hissed. "Take the coin and the child or leave." There was a small chiming sound, like a fistful of coins being moved.
"If he's so useless, what do you expect me to do with him?"
"Put him in the mines, for all I care." Zaspex muttered, unforgiving.
"He's not a Vulpera, he'll die in that cold!" Hezzex hissed back, incredulous.
"Then he will finally be with his mother, and he can explain that she died for nothing."
There was a long silence before a soft sigh was heard from Hezzex, before near-silent footsteps paced across the sandy stone. Erozikith pushed his head out from underneath the blanket, fear in his silver-green eyes as his gaze locked on the face this unfamiliar voice had come from. "Go away!" He hissed softly, pitifully, the wounds in his head making him still so dizzy and weak.
"Come now, Erozikith, we need to go." Hezzex commanded, his face and tone stoic, but his eyes pitying.
"No!" The small Sethrak looked to his father. "Baba, help me! I'll be good, I don't want to go!" He then tucked himself under the ragged blanket to try to hide. "Leave me alone! I don't want to go!"
The angry stomp of scaled feet was felt by the child so close to the ground and he only balled up tighter. There was a harsh RRRIIIP! as the blanket was literally torn from the force of Zaspex's angered pull. Claws gripped into the back of young Sethrak's head once more, mercilessly pulling him up and creating more wounds to drip crimson to the pale stone below.
Erozikith wailed and writhed, only stopping when his head struck the stone outside the doorway, tossed like unwanted filth.
"Leave." Zaspex hissed toward his subordinate, stepping back to wipe his claws and watch the other Sethrak depart.
Hezzex stooped down and picked up the limp, but still-breathing child. "I am sorry, child." He murmured, looking back only to shake his head before carrying his newest acquisition to the slavers' camp.
Erozikith gasped, nictitating membranes sliding back quickly from his eyes and showing slit-pupils. He tried curling up tightly, but found no comfort in his solitude. Quietly, he left his room and walked over where he knew Pheonix and Barry were for the night. Gentle knuckles rapped on their door.
He was greeted with a very groggy and half-dressed Pheonix, rubbing her face to help push back the sleep. "Hey, Kith--" She started to greet the Sethrak, but paused, seeing how anxious and afraid he looked. She quickly turned back to Barry, who was half-awake and not putting up much of a fight against the sleep he'd been pulled from. "Kithy's coming in." She warned, taking her scaley friend's hands and leading him inside.
"What's wrong, Kith?" She asked softly, encouraging him to sit on the bed beside her. "Do I need to beat someone up for you?" A mischievous grin curved her lips in an attempt to cheer him up. When the Sethrak struggled to answer, she offered only a gentle smile. "Do you want to blanket burrito with us?"
That got a response, Erozikith nodding quick but careful. "Yes..."
The cuddly Sethrak was soon sandwiched between his friends, wrapped in warm blankets. Coiled up with them, he knew he would always be safe.
~
@daily-writing-challenge
Mentions:
Pheonix @straightouttatheashes
Barry @disruptanddisturb
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Daily Writing Challenge: Day 1 - Instinct/Neglect
[This lore is a part of Anzhin’s story during the three-year peacetime after leaving the Shadowlands, sometime between the middle and end of year three.]
“I cannot keep doing this…” I whisper to the empty air, the only response being the crash of waves against the docks below. The years since the denizens of Azeroth have stopped their meddling in the realms of death have not been as kind to me as I had hoped. Yet, I still hope and pray that all my efforts and patience have not been for naught. I write another letter.
[Image/Letter Transcript START]
To my beloved Fireheart,
Few things of note have happened since my last letter. I’ve been busying most of my free time pursuing acceptance of assistance with the Tarts. The journey to find my voice again has been long and rather fruitless. The song of my soul is still silent, and a part of me wonders if it will ever be heard again. I feel like a failure, even more so than before.
Not a day goes by where you are not on my mind. The memory of our last time together, it’s hazy, yet I still remember the warmth of your embrace. I know I’ve written this in every letter since you’ve disappeared, but with no way to have you receive them, I can only wish you know how much I truly loved you… how much I still love you.
If the fates are kind, maybe we will see each other again soon.
Your Nightingale, always,
Anzhin
[Image/Letter Transcript END]
I fold the letter, seal it with wax bearing my crest of three stars. I hide away the words that mark the end of each in the library of letters I store in a small pocket dimension of my satchel, awaiting the day in which they may finally be given to their recipient.
Since I had received news of my partner’s disappearance, it has been an almost endless search. I have traveled the realms of life and death, pulled every string I might have ever had, any connection that might have told me where my beloved could have disappeared to. I even stepped foot into the Maw, a place that held such pain and agony at even the thought of it brought me to panic -- yet, I needed to make sure that he wasn’t there.
Hazella's confusing and beautiful magicks brought me another method to search, but even stepping into the Astral Plane has given me no answers to my lover's disappearance. Even though the creatures and beings have so, so many eyes to see, they did not see where he had gone. However, I suppose, I finally learned the meaning of the abyss staring back.
My desperate attempts have stolen time from me. It's only been maybe three years since the peace began to spread after our retreat to Azeroth, but between the Shadowlands and the Astral Plane and every other chance I took... The toll on my countenance is more like five years, and my hair is streaked with silver from the stress and grief.
After every failed search, my feet always bring me to Tol Barad. I pass the empty Maelstrom club, where he and I first met. And then I find myself on the small cliffs overlooking the docks nearby, where we shared our first passions. This is where I write my letters, so many letters, desperately trying to make up for the letters I neglected to send before. I wish I could tell him in person, I wish my soul could sing for him again. I wish I knew that he knew how much I love him.
My search has brought me no closure, but I will continue as long as I am still able. I have to keep going, I have to hold on to hope.
~
@daily-writing-challenge
Credits:
Scrollcase Template by Sonceri
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Daily Writing Challenge: Day 7 - Infatuation
[This lore is a part of Anzhin's story during the three-year peacetime after leaving the Shadowlands, a little over two years in.]
Anzhin stood before his friend's door for quite some time, not quite knowing what to do. It was strange to be called here... Was the good healer trying to get him in for a checkup? He had been struggling quite a bit lately with his spirit, so that might be the reason, but he usually waited until he definitely needed a bit of Mist-mending.
"You know I can sense you out there, Anzhin." came the familiar deep, rich voice from within the home. As Anzhin floundered a bit, it was followed with a sigh. "Just, come in, please. You are wasting a lot of time."
The half-elf shook his head before pushing the door open, finding his 'elven' friend sitting at a table. Bright jade eyes peered at Anzhin, flaring white with assessment and the healer stood, picking up a tin from the counter. "You are distraught, your Chi still frantic. Why do you always wait until it's too late for easy mending, or only come when I call?" Karakash grumbled, pulling a small rice-paper strip from its container and placing it to dissolve within a steaming cup of fresh tea.
"It... It's difficult for me to explain." Anzhin said with a tight, nervous laugh.
The 'elf's head swayed with slight irritation, though he wouldn't push further. He knew not how to heal the Mind, only soothe and mend the Body and Spirit. He returned to the table and set the tea out, sitting down and gesturing for Anzhin to join him. "Let it seep. I will let you know."
The Mage nodded quietly, sitting down at the table and doing his own little inspection of his friend. The 'elf' seemed a bit... troubled. Anxious, perhaps. Anzhin grew concerned. "So... Why invite me here? A preemptive check-in, or...?"
"Can I not invite a friend over for some tea?" Karakash deadpanned.
Anzhin's brow shot straight up. "You don't do that, Karakash, nor have you actually called me a friend before. It's always been 'acquaintance' with you." He reminded, his gaze settling into something rather skeptic.
The healer pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh. "I... need help. This conundrum is something unfamiliar to me."
"Go on..." The half-elf encouraged.
"I..." Karakash took a few moments before clearing his throat and finding his grasp on his wording. "I would like to ask Velathra to join me for dinner. As a date."
It was a good thing Anzhin hadn't had any of the tea before him yet or else he would have spit it out of shock. "Come again?" He squeaked.
The healer rubbed his face. "I want to ask Velathra on a date. I've grown... infatuated." He admitted with an exasperated groan.
Anzhin blinked, pausing to find his own words. "How long has this been going on?"
"A little while." Karakash answered with a tensed jaw.
"And you've only thought to ask now?"
"I needed time to think. To make sure it was not a fluke." The 'elf' grumbled. "But, after some careful analysis and study, this... pain in my chest only happens when I think of her." He took a deep breath and exhaled, before jade eyes settled on the drink before the half-elf. "You may drink your tea."
Anzhin was quiet for a while before he nodded. "Understandable." He then picked up his tea and started to drink. After a few silent moments soothed with the balm of Mist-enfused tea, he spoke up once again. "Just... ask her. I know it can be intimidating at times, but Velathra is an incredible, welcoming soul." Summer greens peered at the 'elf,' a small smile curving his lips. "Honestly, I believe she would accept."
Karakash just... took that in for a bit, sipping his own cup of tea. "I... shall try tomorrow."
"Bring flowers~" Anzhin mused. "Aetheril and Talandra's Roses are her favorites."
~
@daily-writing-challenge
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Daily Writing Challenge: Day 4 - Children
[This lore is a part of Anzhin's story during the three-year peacetime after leaving the Shadowlands, about one year in.]
The beautiful scents of a familiar garden flood Anzhin's senses and a smile crosses his lips. It had been a few months since his dear friend told him the exciting news, that the 'Loa of Apples' is soon to be expanding her family with a new arrival! He hopes his unannounced visit won't be too strenuous nor irritating to the expecting mother.
"Kholwa~!" He calls out, gently, seeing his friend amongst the herbs she so carefully tends. In his arms is a large bushel of apples and when she looks up, his smile is a bit impish.
Kholwa seems to have her attention split between tending the flora in the planter box and.. a little creature in a sling at her front. A baby! It has a little tuft of pink hair to match the sling, and its bright, glowing eyes seem to observe everything with curiosity. Anzhin just about melts at the sight of such a sweet, curious face. He's so happy for his friend that everything seems to have gone well, however, he may be a bit disappointed in himself for being rather late to the party.
The half-elf is startled from his thoughts however, when a mana wyrm cautiously zooms up to him, body sparking defensively with arcane energies. Apparently, it had been tending to the Aetheril in the corner of the garden when Anzhin just waltzed in. Kholwa looks over then, "Easy, Haliy'ai, Anzhin is friend," She calls out, and turns slowly, "One very welcome here!"
"I apologize for intruding on your territory, ferocious guardian wyrm." Anzhin muses, shifting the bushel in his arms to conjure up a bun for the little creature to enjoy. Surprisingly gentle, Haliy'ai takes the bun with an approving stare and a flit of fins, returning to Kholwa's side for a quick brush against her.
"Ah, good, little goddess approves," The Zandalari smiles, leaning against the scaled touch before her head tilts to take in her friend's presence. "It has been some time, ah? Kholwa sorry did not get to send mail to sooner." Her gaze drops to the baby in the sling, its little eyes on Anzhin, "This was first time for Kholwa, not know what would be like."
A warm smile pulls at the corners of Anzhin's lips. "It is alright, my friend. Truly, I understand. I only wish I could have come sooner." He sets the bushel beside him and -- in a minor conjuration of sparkles -- a decently-sized box appears in his hands, to which Kholwa's brow raises curiously. "Though, I am not sure if this would have been ready if I had." Soft laughter escapes him as he steps forward, offering the gift to Kholwa and her little one. "I think Radio would have had my hide if I tried rushing them."
"With or without, Anzhin is always bright star in Kholwa day."
Anzhin's eyes widened, cheeks becoming tinted with color as warmth spread in his chest from her gentle, genuine words. "You are far too kind, my friend." He manages in a soft whisper.
Kholwa's head bows in thanks, stepping forward to take the gift. The baby's little hands reach out as if to emulate her mother, and Kholwa chuckles before lowering the box just enough for those little hands to bap! against them. "Radio?" She asks, looking back to Anzhin, but never quite keeping her eyes away from the child, "Not sure remember speak about before."
A soft huff of a shy laugh escapes as he watches the maternal interaction. At the mention of his business acquaintance, he chuckles and scratches the back of his head. "Radio is... an exceptional craftsperson. They handled a lot of my merchandise and tailored my performance clothes." He hides the melancholy in his gaze when his mind so helpfully and -- luckily -- silently supplies, 'Back when I still performed...' With a soft shake of his head, he continues. "They're interesting to work with, to say the least."
He then quiets down to watch the unwrapping, observing their reactions with great curiosity. Kholwa gently pulls the paper away where the baby can see, cooing all the while. "What did Anzhin bring for, ah?" It does a good job of hyping the baby up to making baby noises.
It is revealed that within the box is a small, decently tailored blue dinosaur onesie, perhaps only a bit too big for the little one at the moment. Cradling said garment was also an incredibly soft and well-tailored purple baby blanket, carefully embroidered and patterned with Zandalari dinosaurs and bright, shining stars.
Kholwa gasps softly, "Oh, this is wonderful.." She holds the blanket close, and after a moment, a green ravasaur on the pattern seems to hold the child's attention.
An almost relieved sort of sound escapes the half-elf, the tension of anticipation relaxing into an all-encompassing warmth. His eyes glisten with unshed tears of joy, but he's quick to blink them away. "I'm so glad you like them." 'All the needle-pricked fingers and lectures from Radio,' he thought, '...were worth it to see this moment.' He was pulled from his thoughts by the sight of a familiar face.
Takaros had landed from his dragon a bit away from the house, not bothering to make an attempt to hide himself from Kholwa, but he did walk quietly to surprise their baby. As he gets behind Kholwa, he wraps his arms around her and rests his chin on her shoulder, causing his mate to smile back and rumble softly to give him an affectionate nuzzle. He grins down at their baby before messing with their hair. "Surprise, little one." He coos softly.
Surprised by her father, the baby's hand suddenly balls up on the blanket and shakes it rigorously, with enough strength that Kholwa's suddenly holding the blanket a little tighter in caution. Uh oh... Dire troll strength.
"Careful, little girl!" Kholwa half-heartedly chides while laughing, but of course a baby doesn't care. The little one's just excited to see her father.
Takaros clicks his tongue gently as he watches how his daughter reacts to his presence, gently reaching down and wrapping his hand around hers, stroking his thumb over the back of her hand. "Easy, easy, we gotta be careful of our strength when we're strong!" He murmurs softly. He knows full well she's far too young to understand or care, not that he's upset, he's just as happy to see her. "I was gone such a short time! Paperwork and done. Ya siblings are gonna be back later to come see ya! Grandma'da gonna be finally givin’ dem back."
"Anzhin bring these as gifts, Taka," Kholwa gestures to the onesie and blanket, that her child won't, under any circumstances, let go of now. "So cute, ah? Will be perfect in den and when air is get colder here."
Taka leaned down and kissed the top of her head before actually looking over the blanket finally. "Oh dese are lovely gifts! Thank ya, Anzhin, dey'll be used for a long time if her reaction is ta judge by anything."
A warm chuckle rumbles from the half-elf. "The blanket is also enchanted." He explains. "To help keep in warmth, stay clean, and resist the usual wear-and-tear, so it can be used and cherished for as long as needed or desired." He smiled. 'It will probably exist far longer than me, just like everything else...' The cruel voice in his mind whispered, only causing a slight twitch in his brow.
Kholwa lifts the child up and out of the sling slowly as her attention redirects to her mate, using that moment to wrap the blanket around her and transfer the swaddled and gabbing baby off to him, who takes her all too happily. He beams bright at her as she shows so much animated excitement for one so young, bringing her up and kissing her face several times. "Oh hello, my little princess! Ya act like I been gone for a lifetime!" He's careful to make sure she only grabs the middle of his tusks, preventing her from accidentally slapping the sharp tips.
"Both?" The Zandalari woman asks about the enchantments, looking at how the baby's hands reach up for Taka's tusks.
The half-elf shakes his head. "Only the blanket, unfortunately."
Kholwa smiles and nods in understanding, her attention then turning to the bushel left at the entry of the garden. "Anzhin bring apples just in time, if so. Kholwa can make pies," She takes the moment to neatly place the onesie back in the box and set aside for later.
"Oh, yes! They're freshly gathered from the Aubergine Farm, ready for many lovely pies and anything else you desire." Anzhin mused warmly. "I thought you might enjoy a bit of baking~"
"Of course will give Anzhin pie, too. How has been, by way? Have more shows is sing at?" The Zandalari woman asks,
Anzhin's smile fades only slightly at the mention of shows. "Unfortunately, my friend, I haven't been singing much. Life has... many things that have needed to be done." He's quick to change the subject, putting on a lighter air. "And what of you two? I hope everything has been going well and with little resistance!"
Kholwa's eyes every now and then flit to the child as she listens, her own features sobering slightly, "Kholwa can understand that, has been lot to do for Kholwa too. Even when was with child." She notes, and takes a moment to smooth the pink tuft of hair on her little girl's head, "It was blessing was able to have child so soon, Kholwa body was not ah-" The Raptari pauses and clears her throat, trying to think of a way to explain -that-, ".. In balance. But being around nature, working for Kholwa Loa, Gonk, make things right." She smiles softly. The baby is meanwhile displaying her lack of motorskills by giggling and tugging on Taka's tusks from the middle, not quite able to wrap her little hands around and so losing her grip a few times.
Preoccupied as he was, Takaros was able to answer even if he couldn't quite look away from the grabby baby. "In my case, unlike with most threats, when de Jailer was felled, his army just faded away. So I actually get ta be home much more instead of cleaning up pockets for a year like before." He hums happily, snickering every time their daughter almost manages to make it work, reassuring her. "Ya be able ta do it soon enough." His daughter didn't seem bothered in the least, she was enjoying the game of grabbing fa'da's tusks. He thinks for a moment before using a little of his magic to put a blunt cap of stone over the sharp tusk, gently guiding her hand closer to the slimmer part of his tusks so she can grab that instead.
Anzhin nods. "It is quite a change from the usual way of things. It was nice to just be able to go home and not think about the grand scheme for a while, to enjoy the life we are given instead of succumbing to fear and strife over and over again." He mused, his gaze shifting to Kholwa once again. "A blessing it is, truly, to be able to enjoy the joys in life, large and small. I feel honored to witness this."
Kholwa nods along to the both of them, "Peace is some thing Kholwa only have in small moments before this, so is happy for how ever long is last. And there is always things to do, maybe Anzhin can see Kholwa pack lands some time? If does not mind bit of travel and ravasaurs sniff at," And devilsaurs, but they were surprisingly less troublesome than her grown hatchlings. "Would not be for while, Kholwa think, little one here will have naming ceremony soon," Her gesture to her daughter happens as the child's hand closes around the blunted tip of the tusk, suddenly tugging with that exhibited strength from earlier.
Takaros feels his head get suddenly yanked down some by an especially strong tug from their daughter. His eyes widen in surprise for a moment before snorting and leaning close for her, kissing her nose while her hands move to his cheeks, seemingly wanting to keep him there. "I can tell dat we're gonna have to do special things with ya walkin’ around. I thought de others were bad, ya gonna end up ripping off a handle somewhere." He tells the baby with a soft, playful growl before nuzzling her chest with his nose. He then glances back up to Kholwa and Anzhin, continuing the previous thought. "De hope is dat dis peace lasts for a long while dis time. I'm not so optimistic ta assume it will be forever but perhaps de next adventure will be less world ending and more of an adventure."
Anzhin smiles, his head tipping in a slight nod. "I hope this peace lasts for a good while as well, and only be broken by something exciting and not terrifying~" A laugh punctuates the thought before give a soft, warm hum, his summer green gaze meeting Kholwa's. "I would love to visit your pack’s lands sometime. It would be a welcomed change of scenery."
The half-elf then steps back, picking up the bushel with a grin. "Can we talk more over baking? I apologize, my stomach is demanding delightful sweets~" He tries to talk over the tell-tale growl of hunger from within.
Takaros laughed, his attentions still on the little one. "What about you eh, you hungry like Anzhin 'ere? Need dat belly filled?" He followed his question by targeting her belly and tickling gently.
Kholwa laughs between the three, especially when her daughter giggles at the tickling of her belly. "Has been while since feed, should be ready for meal now," She nods to Anzhin, and gives a whistle over her shoulder for Haliy'ai to follow.
"Come then, will treat Anzhin to pie tonight!"
~
@daily-writing-challenge
Written in an RP with Kholwa and Takaros 💕
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