Opulence, Opera, and Obscenities

“Just once in my life, just once, my good sir… I would deign to attend an opera. I’ve heard they portray all the majesty of life through music and poetry of sorts. An Aria of Souls, as a very dear friend once told me.” Anetho sighed, bringing his cigar to his lips, letting it hang idle as he reclined in his chair. “He made it sound as close to the heavens as mortal men may reach…”

Jan. 1, 2009  Tragedy – Prologue

The Kor’Kron had tasked me with laying my eyes upon my own kin, in such a way that they may better observe our position as a nation. Of course they also asked I root out any rebellious individuals as well. Who am I to deny them their plunder? I provide a few undesirables and they shower me in praise and respect. I’ve even found a means to further mask my own operations within the realm of Orgrimmar, making use of Illenna. I’ve implicated her as an illusionist of some repute, and indicated she’d even taken my face once or twice to better facilitate as to why I may have been seen at the Wyvern’s Tail whilst the two Orcs died a week prior. Likewise I suspect I’ve made good on my word to both women. They were meant to keep each other in check, however they have failed not only me, but each other.

I advised the Kor’Kron High Warlord as to Astoreth Firewing’s disposition and revealed her dealings in Orgrimmar as smuggling goods for the rebels, taking great care not to name any one particular group of dissidents. I’ve also submitted Kelandre Blazetempest and her entire criminal cartel forth for persona non grata status, given their prior disposition. This is a unique oppertunity to make use of my enemies that I may pit them against each other, and at the same time, further destabilize the Horde.

I’m to make regular trips between Silvermoon and Orgrimmar now, atop the surveillance that SI:7 requests of me. I almost begin to feel as if espionage is easier in those spy novels I’ve read. Certainly more exciting, though I’ve an unexpected jewel in Elysia Dawnbreeze. This capable marksman is more than beautiful, she’s deadly. Deliciously so, in fact and with a mind just as sharp. When we took the bedroom, which is only a natural place to wander for individuals of such high profile, she pressed me to her. Forced me to her desires. It was the strangest, most exhilerating thing. Ordinarily I hold the leash. I cannot say it was anything but wonderous. I am left to ponder what her larger role in this affair is to be. At the same time I must tread lightly with this Orc shaman, Ojka. While certainly a work of art for a greenskin, I have yet to determine just where her loyalties rest. If at all plausible, I should find a way to turn her upon her kin. I suspect a few “natural” disasters would work wonders. She craves me, I see it in her eye. I almost find myself worried.

Thankfully I found respite in the most delightful surprise ever to befall me. When I’d returned to Silvermoon to maintain appearances for the sake of the Kor’Kron, I found an invitation to the opera house waiting for me at my estate. Never was I so thrilled in my life. As it happens, the late Judicial Magister Frostsorrow had arranged a ticket in advance for me. I almost felt guilty over his death a year ago. Almost. Though there was the revelation that someone else had their eye upon me when I took a seat. Angels and Devils all under one roof each with their own stories to unfold before private audiences.

Anetho sat himself upon a private box three stories up overlooking the stage, taking note that there were two chairs prepared, though he’d not arranged for an additional person. He ran his fingers over the golden throne he was perched and sighed in contentment, resting his head against the red silk cushioned frame. A well dressed Sin’dorei took the stage below as a spotlight of sorts shined down upon him, the only illumination to be had, save for the dim candles within his box.

“Lords and Ladies; Tonight we’ve a tale of love and warfare. Of loyalties and devotion born of the heart. An exceptional treat, this Dream Oath Opera, performed and written by the talented minds of Silvermoon’s finest acting troupe. But do not take my word for it, judge for yourself!” The man raised his right hand upright, and cast it to the ground as if throwing something. A bright flash of mana and he was replaced with a woman, singing a prelude as the curtains slowly parted. Anetho felt his lips pull into a relaxed smile, for this one moment he had escaped his world and found a new one in her angelic melody.

“Gods…” He whispered to himself. “…Surely these are angels cast of the Light…”  A hand rest itself gently at his shoulder. “Indeed they are, Magister.” A familiar voice sounded behind him. His ears pinned back in alarm, until his eyes gazed upon an old colleague; Heathis Duskwhisper. “Ah, Magister Duskwhisper…” Anetho mused, his smile returning to his lips as he shifted his eyes back to the stage. “..You startled me, not an easy feat.” The man chuckled as the woman completed her sonata and the actors took to the stage. “You might say I knew where you’d be; there’s an important matter to touch upon. I promise I shan’t take up to much of your time.” Anetho produced a cigar from the complimentary humidor to his left upon the table and brought it to rest upon his lips. The tip igniting itself through the flows of ley as he inhaled deeply. “I will humor you.” He replied softly, smoke clouds rising in the air as he spoke.

“Wonderful.” The man quipped delightfully, claiming one for himself as he moved to sit upon the opposite chair, lighting his vice much as Anetho had. “…Do you recall the days of yore, long before we both sat upon the council? When we touched of darker magicks?” Anetho’s brow furrowed. “…I remember.” Heathis chuckled. “You once pitched four factions against each other, working within all of them. I’m noticing the patterns you displayed then in play now… You wouldn’t happen to have some misfortunate plot intended towards our fair Silvermoon, would you?” Anetho allowed an amused grin to pull at his lips. “If I did? Would you deign to stop me?” The other Magister reclined in his chair, propping his feet up along the edge of the box’s window. “Yes. I’d be obligated to take you into custody under charges of treason. Charges you only -just- escaped by exploiting the Phoenix Accord, but I do not imagine it will work twice.” Anetho shook his head in reply, eyes never once leaving the sensational performance below. “Charges that will be rendered irrelevant as those actions were taken in service to the city-state whereby all actions taken against me will be repealled and I will  be reinstated to my initial post prior to the sentencing.” Duskwhisper nodded, resting an elbow upon the arm of the throne that he might posture his chin atop his knuckles. “…You’ve thought of that much, which only furthers my suspicions.”

“I don’t like what you’re implying, good sir.” Anetho retorted, though there was an abscence of bitterness to his voice. “T’is only natural, isn’t it? We’ve played this game for some time together but now I fear that the time has come to pass where I must entangle you in -my- scheme. You see, I tire of this petty war. I wish to bring it to a close and force the council to split from the Horde and move towards independance.” Anetho smirked. “So you’ll reveal my actions as being in direct service to the Horde, and that I’d orchestrated the entire court-room drama in order to get closer to my true superiors that I might better service the Horde as a whole?” Heathis nodded. “Yes. There is no other true explanation, Magister.” The Red Magister only chuckled, refering to the actors on stage as they began to wage war upon each other; two nations at each other’s throat with lovers caught in the middle. “…Wonderous.” He whispered. “Isn’t it just?” There was a moment of silence between the two of them.

“..Are you ignoring me, Magister?” Anetho smirked. “Yes.” Heathis stood up, suddenly enraged. “Do you think me so little as not to be a threat? Do you not see that I have you by your fucking hair with the blade poised over your head?” He fumed. “You fail to comprehend the events of the world revolving around you. Your allegations couldn’t be farther from the truth, but in revealing your plot to me I’ve just taken you under charges of conspiring against the Magistrate and extortion.” Duskwhisper smirked. “You have no witnesses to such a claim. You’re just a bitch cowering in a corner. You’re not prepared to go all the way with such empty threats, not then, and certainly not now! You prattle on in good composure but in reality I can see you cowering behind bottles, women, and this horrid excuse of art, running from reality like the twisted fuck you are.”

 “Good sir. I -am- prepared to go ‘all the way’ with the affairs I’ve entangled myself. But I am not doing such in a self-serving manner as you would. Even if you managed to pass these charges off in a court of law they still would not reap the intended effect you desire. The Sin’dorei are falling apart, and must nestle themselves within a larger collection or risk the ire of everyone involved. A kingdom of solitude seldom lasts.” He sighed, watching the duel now taking place between the two lovers for the sake of their woman’s heart. “Then you’re truly going to proceed with your treacherous plot, despite what I’ve intended for you?” The magister chuckled. “You’re truly a damned fool, insane even.”

Anetho Dawnpride smiled delightedly as the hero kissed his beloved below on stage and Heathis had ceased in his ramblings. “Good sir, I’ve taken liberties to ensure the path I walk. My will alone is not enough to drive nations, nor is any one man’s. But I act in the interest of my people in ways that will never be appreciated. I will burn what I must to ensure loose ends do not appear so as to keep attention focused on the primary issues. I act as the invisible guardian on fronts of men, that they may not further destroy the fragile politics we’ve left to govern ourselves by.” He set his cigar upon the ashtray and observed the actors taking their bows. “…But then, you’ve just learned of that first hand.” Heathis Duskwhisper’s body hit the floor, convulsing violently. He began to foam at the mouth. “..You’ve just been subjected to a neurotoxin of sorts that is presently assaulting every nerve in your body. Your heart rate will increase until such a time it simply fails to function. Your arms and legs have already failed you, as will your eyes and ears in short order.” Anetho stood upright as he watched the actors take their bows and began to applaud for them. “Don’t worry about leaving a mess, Pathstalkers are quite adept at hiding bodies and staging accidental falls.” He turned to depart the box, looking to the female figure veilled in shadows. He ran his right hand along her face. “Isn’t that right, darling?” She nodded her head, face flushing bright red. Dark magicks twisting her every affection for him, love and lust becoming a blur. Well and truly seduced as his puppet. She handed him his bright red overcoat, and wiped her dagger off along her tabard. “…Take care of this, love.” He ruffled her hair as a father would to a daughter, as he departed the box to the last melody of the opera house. “Truly…There are angels…” He whispered to himself.

I am prepared to go “all the way” with all that I’ve prepared. For every sin, for every corpse, I have never once begged forgiveness of any diety. I fear that those prayers would fall on deaf ears. For all my lies, my every crime, and heart wrenched I can offer no appology. Nor may I chase it with the liquor that flows freely of this world. I do what I must, that others needn’t dirty their hands. That Kuvasei may not fall to the depths of the darkness, to the lengths that I have. That Astoreth may break free of the chains that hold her in place. For the Kor’Kron to see their original purpose fulfilled; to protect the people. Yes, even to save Heathis Duskwhisper’s honor. I will indeed go “all the way”…Then, and only then, will my prayers be given any mind.

Then and only then, will I be granted forgiveness.

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~ by anethodawnpride on June 3, 2013.

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