Final Hours

Magister Dawnpride,

This is now the third letter I’ve penned requesting your presence that you may be questioned in a civil manner regarding unsurprising allegations of multiple crimes. We’ve determined that the postal address you’re presently utilizing is a proxy of sorts wherein a third party ferries your missives to another whom in turns relays it to Orgrimmar whereupon it is carried directly to your hands. In response to your blatant disregard to our requests, the nature of the crimes weighed against you, and the implications of your own actions we’ve no choice but to issue an inquisition. I’ve tried to extend every possible professional courtesy just short of nightshade.

Likewise there is a commission attached to your capture meant to add incentive that bounty hunters and common folk might draw you where you’ve clearly no intentions of venturing – and they shall hardly be called discriminant as to the condition you are in should they do so. It would be far more convenient and infinitely less painful for all involved parties if you would surrender yourself quietly rather than wait for an inevitable altercation to develop.

Lilienne Mareeth Te’Athas
Magistrix; Internal Affairs

I’ve made a breakthrough today. By use of Malathane’s gift in manipulating the flows of ley we can temporarily suspend and even control the flows of magic through the ritual circles whilst it is drawn thereby ensuring there are no risks in making the required additions and that we shan’t lose any arcana in the process either. This done I’ve surely been set ahead of schedule despite the lingering absence of the reagents required. To this end I’ve enlisted the aid of a hypnotist – someone that might traverse the depths of my memories alongside me in order to shed light in these affairs through my darkest day of existence.

I wonder at times as to the condition of the outside world beyond these decaying walls; how I must appear in the eyes of my peers and those of the Magistrate. By now I’m certain they’ve worked a fairly substantial case against me but nothing I can’t simply delay through legal loopholes until such a time it no longer matters – to one extreme or the other. I’ve far greater issues to attend to as it is.

Anetho’s eyes narrowed in mild irritation. “What do you mean she’s asking questions? The girl can’t even read or write.” The Red Magister asked as he lazily shifted his gaze to Malathane from his notebook. He shifted uncomfortably in his bed, awaiting her reply. “She wants to know her name, where she is, and why you keep putting her inside the Tomb of One.” She said softly, setting a tray atop the table next to him. “Does she now?” He reached over to collect the cup of tea she’d delivered and guide it to his lips, the warm liquid soothing his rampant mind. “To be expected I suppose…” He sighed contently, running his right hand through his hair. “Well, I’ll leave it to your imagination; creative as you are. Those maternal instincts of yours are my greatest asset in this entire affair. Let her have a glimpse of the sun, call her by some pet name and assure her that the sarcophagus is nothing to be feared… and be kind enough to gauge her magical prowess for me won’t you?”

He sipped of the piping hot contents once more as she perked a brow. “I’m not sure that’s the best approach to indoctrination; certainly not your usual approach at least. When did you adopt an open palm policy?” Her tone rang more with curious amusement than disagreement as she worked a smile from the Red Magister. “Over the years I’ve learned the joys of intimidation are far outweighed by the losses. Fear breeds an inner frustration that leads to subtle rebellious thoughts that burn brighter with each day… Painfully bright.” He looked up at her and smiled simply – a gentle serene sort of expression befitting one whom would show charity upon the poor, or feed the hungry. That it belonged to someone; something, so malevolent unsettled her. “Brain washing shouldn’t hurt. If done properly it should just slip right in and sit comfortably with promise of reward and praise.” He sat the empty cup back atop the tray. “Shrewd, Dawnpride.” She plucked the tray from the table and made for the door. “Do not strain yourself on my account, Malathane. Take each day slowly – you need not force results for my sake.” Her ears twitched in reply as she departed.

Who will I be in the aftermath of this affair? Will the blood upon these hands finally be put to rest and my soul washed clean? A sin that twice damns… Can it be forgiven? Why do these questions haunt me amidst memories of my burning estate? Why do I think that Liaskar calls beyond the veil to let it all rest? Guilt clings to me and there is a growing uncertainty; a growing disappointment in my very being.  ‘Asleon’ I almost think him in the room beside me, though I look and beholden upon my lonesome. ‘Be at peace, Asleon. Taint not they darkened, vengeful heart further… Be as one with serenity as you were once in legion. Thou art not damned as you believe, oh brother my brother.” I know the words to be true but I question if they are real. If perhaps I am forging my own counter-arguments to that which I shall soon reap of fields long and carefully sown. Madness… Madness is perhaps the only language this body shall ever know. Only the Gods may say what is and is not to be. Not the long desiccated corpse of a by-gone soldier…

“De’Forte. Thou art a treasured companion and I am honored that you should me thy friend.”

-Liaskar Moonwalker, The Last Sun to Rise Over Lordaeron

I turn a new page in my notebook. The blank paper taunts me silently as I gaze at it in solitude. There is no future here, nor is there any hint of what the past had left in it’s wake. Tonight I slumber under the eye of the hypnotist in the hopes that both past, present and future may culminate and reveal themselves to these last pieces of papyrus are given a purpose – rather than to remain empty for all eternity with only the thoughts of what could have been.

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~ by anethodawnpride on February 21, 2014.

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