User blog:Vaedaris/The Day of Darkness

The world lay still, motionless. Vaedaris twitched his fingers, or at least he tried. Panic flooded him when he felt the phantom presence of limbs that no longer were. He tried to move his legs, but they did not exist either.

No. He thought to himself. How could this be?

Darkness settled all around him. The universe had capitulated to some deafening black. He heard no sound. Saw no other. His body seemed non-corporeal now, having transmuted into some spiritual plane. He had thoughts, however, though they were a haze. The ghastly essence of arcane energy whirled around his head, but the leashing out of chaotic tendrils that whipped around him were quickly put out by counteractive fel magic that hungrily consumed it.

He had become a wisp, which could only mean death had settled upon him. Vaedaris realized he lay suspended in a bleak afterlife, some sort of hellish nightmare. Hell, he concluded, not because of fire and torture, no. This was much worse, for fire and wrath require an exertion of energy, some directed anger against him that would keep his mind preoccupied.

This was the absence of life. The absence of pain. It was abandonment. The eternal discarding of his spirit to a realm in which he had no power, no free will, and a thirst for something, someone, anyone.

His thoughts dwelt on consideration for who he was. A half-elf, half-demon, and a servant of Lord Illidan Stormrage—the last of his people bold enough to take action against his enemies.

But is that how the priestesses would remember me, he wondered. On an epitaph, he imagined an inscription:


 * Here rests Vaedaris.


 * He who took all manners of pleasure in life


 * while his people burned alive.


 * A worshiper of demons under Illidan.


 * May Elune guide his spirit to his just reward.

The thought angered him, sickened him, and filled him with a desperate longing to be free to prove himself. Many thought those who became demon hunters to be vile abominations. They did not understand that Illidan's servants had been fighting for a righteous and just cause. But what, he wondered, ''was the benefit reaped? Thousands of elves died in Teldrassil. In fire and fury, bloodlust and rage, the Horde accomplished what the demons desired most.''

He realized he had been fighting the wrong enemy all along. No mastery over magic and blade mattered here. Elune turned deft to this imprisoning void, letting him remain apart from her in death as he had remained apart from her in life.

Upon that revelation, he awoke. Sweat drenched his long, sleek hair, which now lay matted as a sleek, greasy dark blue that reflected silvery hues off the moonlight. He rose from his bedchamber at Dolanaar.

Relief filled his body as his heart pounded in his chest, feeling vibrant, fresh, and alive. No fel coursed his veins. No demon reasoned for its satisfaction through his body. His limbs obeyed his commands and he rejoiced in it. He stumbled over off the side of his mattress, falling hands and feet to the floorboards of the inn.

His calloused hands bled again as they landed on a splintered board, not a sickly green of demons, but a fresh dark reddish-purple blood. He laughed as he felt normal pain once again. A lifetime of dreams, nightmares, and dark pacts were gone. His slate had been wiped clean. It felt like a lifetime or two had passed since his body moved so nimble as he did now. He rose, his body shaking with joy, and saw a sentinel standing there.

She offered a puzzled expression. "Are you well?" She asked inquisitively.

Vaedaris laughed, shaking and pounding his calloused palm onto her shoulderpad merrily. "Yes," he answered. "I am." He continued, still shivering from the experience and from restraining his own laughter. From her perspective, what she had seen probably seemed insane, but her present situation made whatever thoughts she might have irrelevant.

"Lake Al'ameth is being overrun. Hurry, the night is still young. Our time is now and the tumors will not be growing as fast without the sunlight. Get the civilians out of there for Darnassus." She tossed a shortsword at Vaedaris, letting it fall to the ground with a clank. "Are you up to the task?"

His eyes settled on the black waters of Lake Al'ameth. Moonlight shimmered along its rippling tide, illuminating along with it twisted shadows that should not be. He had been given a new hope, a new chance, and here was Elune, beckoning him to act now without any of the strings he had seen so lucidly in what seemed now a dreaded nightmare.

He took a deep breath, fingers finding his hilt, and marveled at the simplicity of it. How powerful it is, the dominion of the sword, and those who are willing to wield it. "Ash keroth!" He nodded, setting out for his first task in this age where so much he now saw hinges on the might and integrity of the Kaldorei.