Unending Chains {Story}

Post by Neonhyper

Please take a good 30-45 minutes out of your time to read this. It is not short.

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It was late in the eve, far past the tick of midnight. To say the world was silent would have been nothing but a lie with the din of shuffling bodies, the tired braying of pack animals, and the subdued voices of men still awake. Ellismera's soft footsteps were all but unheard as leather sandals pressed into the dry, green grass that precariously threatened to wither at a moment's notice. She ignored the rest of the camp's activities even as they swirled dangerously close to her.

A breeze pressed against her, lacking either warmth or chill, an aspect that sent shivers down her spine nonetheless. The kaldorei pulled the snow white shawl across her shoulders closer, the wool weaved silk caressing against violet skin. She glanced up from the ground beneath her feet to the way ahead, a glower still slashed across her expression that drew odd glances from those she passed. Still she continued on, paying no head, as the hem of her ragged raiment dragged across the ground.

Before her rose the stone walls that blocked off the encampment, made of chiseled grey stone set perfectly uniform. Her stride stepped off grass and onto a road, looking to be recently repaved but already worn from use, as she walked towards one of the gates. A half-awake watchman shot upright at the sight of a lone woman exiting. Despite his earnest protests, her steady pace didn't even slow as the guard fumbled to collect his things. Unfortunately, he wasn't fast enough, and she was gone down the weathered path past Light's Hope Chapel, trailed by long tresses the color of her stole.

Around Ellismera, the Plaguelands stretched out with no end. Above her the moon did not shine, it's rays blocked by an infernal ashen cloud. The day was no better, as memory recalled; the sky was persistently a bold orange color serving as the background for a blood red sun, whose rays provided sweltering heat that burned with a foul presence. Outside the Chapel grounds the land was blistered with infection. The flora had a withered appearance with hues of a sickly brown, where the trees stood as little more than husks. Some hung with shriveled leaves that still clung to the spindly branches while others were dotted with disease ridden growths, yellow flecked with black.

Behind rose the only sanctuary in a blighted land. Light's Hope, riddled with paladins and priests who thought they could still purge the region back to its original condition, served as a bastion. In her case, it was another stop along an unending journey of a road. Still it served as a war camp and she had desperately needed to get away from the unceasing ruckus. Some would question the sanity of leaving the safety of the camp's walls to simply get air; among those her own Arquin.

The line of her pursed lips grew tighter as her shoulders slumped and she drew further into her shawl. She could not imagine what kind of a heart attack she might give him should he wake up to find her not there. He had been sleeping soundly for quite some time now and she earnestly hoped that would keep for this night. She sighed softly, finding no way to be able to blame him for caring so much, only finding herself once again oh so curious why.

Her gaze flicked wearily over her shoulder. The thoughts pouring through her mind were not unique; a bout of conversation within herself she shared consistently. She happened through the thought again, of something he wasn't telling her that would cause a man such as him to put his life on the line for an insensitive priestess such as her. Another sigh escaped as she glanced ahead yet again, knowing full well she had no right to pry upon anything. There were things she would not say herself, things she wished to forget.

It was the thought that caused her to warily halt. Things lurked in the dark, a childish fear at heart and laughable in light of what part of Azeroth she stood in, nonetheless it was what concerned her. The twisted howls of demonic hounds echoed the bloody shrills of plagued bats in the dimmed shadows past where the muted light would allow her vision, even the rattling of bones carried far enough to her ears. Yet the aberrations that were the denizens of the Plaguelands were not what she lay on edge to fear.

The sense of vileness pervaded alongside blistering heat, as if flames were actually biting at her heels with the readiness to consume her. A corrupted touch lay in wait at the edge of her mind's eye, with the desire to stroke against her soul with false promises of power. It was a feeling she had learned long past to fear, branded into her nature as something to hate. Demons.

She held her breath, silver eyes skirting across the landscape and not holding to one spot for more than a moment. The presence lingered, longer than when she had indentified it in the past, and this time, for reasons that eluded her, she could not seem to locate it.

Then from behind her came the voice, coarse and barely louder than a whisper, brushing against her alongside another warmthless zephyr, "Elli."

Cold pricked at the tips of her fingers and spread across her in a creeping numbness until she felt like she could not actually be there at all. She had heard the nickname before, others had used it, but it was normally a mistake only made once. Yet only one person had ever been allowed. The sense of drained euphoria washed through her like the blood from her face drained away.

"Elli," came the call once again, harsher this time.

Her voice constricted in her throat and she dared not look at what stood in her wake, yet her gasping croak was the only recognition of the disbelief at who it could be, "Desarith."

A heavy hand forcefully wrenched her to turn, sending her face to face with the surreal. He stood a head taller than her, his chest heaving with exertion and sweat glistening across ashen pale flesh. The kaldorei's faded verdant hair fell past his shoulders and down his back, tousled, disheveled, as if it hadn't been cared for in ages. His jaw was set firm, teeth grit together painfully, and the brown leather strip across his eyes couldn't hold back the raging green flames that lapped at the edges. Large scars and malformed injuries sliced across his chest and arms, layering overtop dim, spiraling green tattoos.

Ellismera stared at him in shock; shock that soon turned to horror as the dawning of revelation finally set down up on her. She pulled her arm from his grasp and stumbled back, barely managing to not trip and fall flat upon her back as she weakly exclaimed, "Demon hunter!"

"I did it for you," Desarith's voice was firm, unwavering as he locked his blindfolded stare at where she stood.

She shook her head incredulously, "You're dead," she said. "You died during the war."

His barking laugh sent convulsing shivers down her spine as she warily took another step back, "Is that what they told you because of this?" he asked, scowling grimly. "Is that what you tell yourself to justify your wanton betrayal?"

"What betrayal! You were gone, and you never came back," she cried in response. "Almost better than you would have died, than become... this!"

The tears streamed down her cheeks and Desarith's expression contorted into a sneer as he looked down at her, "I've been trapped for millennia, waiting for the day of freedom so I could return to you, and when it finally arrives, what do I find? My love consorting with another man, as if I had never existed, and when I finally confront her, she wishes me dead."

"Only because you've returned to me a monster!" Ellismera's hands alighted with a silver glow as she watched him with revulsion.

Desarith howled as if struck by a deathly blow, "Traitorous moon witch!"

Tendrils of dark magic lashed off his hands like whips, latching to her wrists in tight bands. In shock, she dropped her spell and struggled against the bindings, until a searing pain filled her entire form. Energy drained from her, forcefully being split by illusions of flames that purged through her body. Her eyes filled with tears, blurring her blacking vision as she screamed, shrill exclamations only replied to by the maddening sounds of the Plaguelands.

"ARQUIN!" she shouted desperately through her cracking voice before Desarith dropped her carelessly to the earth.

She shook with spasms as Desarith calmly approached, bending down and scooping up the woman. He finished the deed, forcing her into unconsciousness with a tight grip around her nose and mouth even as she limply struggled, "Yes, let your little boy on a leash come..."

---

"Arquin!"

In a chaotic shuffle of blankets, Arquin shot straight up. He pressed his palms to his face, moaning lightly as his blood flow adjusted to the sudden movement. For a moment he wondered what kind of dream would set him awake like that, only to discard the thought. He hadn't dreamed in weeks, not since... He trailed off wearily, running his fingers through a mane of dark blue hair.

The elf rolled his shoulders back, reaching for the misshapen sheets to slip back into sleep, when his eyes darted to his side. His bleary mind snapped almost immediately into focus at the sight, or lack thereof, and he deftly scrambled out of the bed to make sure he was not simply imagining things. Arquin's eyes frantically darted for any sight of Ellismera, yet she was nowhere to be found in the canvas tent. His dark purple skin went a shade lighter as the hysterical scream that had forced him awake went back through his mind.

He tied up his kilt, a garment made of sewn leather and chitin, as he ran, with little care to where his steps passed. The curious, disturbed, and concerned expressions of those currently on watch in the Chapel grounds were barely seen and their exclamations muted behind the throbbing sound of his heart pounding in his ears. Arquin looked from side to side, desperately searching for the white haired kaldorei priestess, but there was no trace of her.

His following inquisition was mostly ignored, but a watchman groggy with sleep had seen a night elf leaving the camp through the western gate. Arquin doubted there was another that fit the characteristics and was so impetuous, and soon he was running down the western road. Breathless, he eventually halted a ways down the path, setting his hands on his knees and glancing up.

"Ellismera!" he cried, his mouth hanging open at the sight of her, or more specifically, the prison that she was trapped within.

Dark magic swirled like a dense fog, condensed to the shape of a large gem-like cage. The cloud of shadows shifted within its barrier, barely allowing sight of the figure hanging suspended within. Ellismera rested, unmoving, like a fragile doll in the embrace of the dark prison.

"And so you did come," Desarith stated dryly.

Arquin spun around to see the demon hunter pushing a hand against the ground as he rose from his knees to stand, "You did this, didn't you?" Arquin demanded, his voice a snarl that already knew the answer to the question.

"A proper fate for a betrayer!" came the sharp reply. "And so will yours, for taking her."

The tension between the two stretched out in silence for little time. Arquin drew into himself, his skin creeping over with carapace as his legs each split into two, them along with his arms ending in sharp obsidian claws as wicked mandibles clacked together. Desarith, caught off guard from the sudden transformation, was met with the full fury of a silithid reaver as claws sharp as blades tore through his already scarred over chest.

When his senses returned, the demon hunter met Arquin with his own share of surprises. The reaver let out a squelching roar of pain as the jagged tip of a gold, molten glaive rent through his stomach. Hooked onto Desarith's weapon, Arquin lashed out in vain before being tossed against the ground, skidding a ways away. The demon hunter backed up, warily watching the reaver as he brandished both of his warglaives.

Desarith grinned as the silithid came back charging, and lightly traced an arc in the earth in front of him, before a wall of burning emerald fel flames erupted in Arquin's path. The shrill shrieks of the insect-like creature had the demon hunter grinning like mad. That is, until the screams of pain turned into a chorus of battle lust, and Desarith was tackled to the ground as Arquin leapt through the fire wall, the silithid's chitin a blazing inferno.

The demon hunter wrenched a grip on Arquin's head through the wounds that felt like slicing brands and rolled onto his side, smashing the reaver's head into the ground. He raised a glaive, slamming it down to impale the silithid through, but the creature's body dexterously moved as to avoid the worst of the blow. Arquin shrieked, however, when one of his legs was sliced clean off. He stabbed a claw into Desarith's wrist, causing him to release the silithid's head as the creature nimbly retreated back.

Desarith glanced at the blood fanning down his arm only briefly, turning his attention to Arquin, who was changing back to his kaldorei form. The flames receded as the chitin returned flesh and he touched his fingers, slicking them scarlet, against the gaping wound on his abdomen. Arquin evened haggard breathing as he glared up at Desarith, who had gotten to his feet. The demon hunter was not going to risk a reprieve for the hive druid and immediately charged back into the fray.

Arquin scowled, immediately bending low into another transformation. His arms painfully contorted back into huge scythes, a massive form was covered in carapace thicker than the reaver's, and mandibles clicked once more underneath a large spearing horn. The colossus dug at the ground with his front claws, before slamming his entire frame into the charging demon hunter, causing Desarith to smash backwards with a painful crack.

He coughed up blood, glancing down at the red oozing down his body. Desarith groaned as he picked himself up, only managing to catch part of a breath as a clicking screech filled his ears. The demon hunter crashed into the base of a hill as Arquin charged and tossed him across the ground like a broken toy. A cloud of dust rose in the wake of the colossus's destruction.

Post by Neonhyper

Heaving with effort, Arquin lowered himself and slowly returned to his normal form. He barely looked back as he rushed towards the road, nearly stumbling over his feet before he reached the prison. Arquin ignored his own pain and dipped his hands into the illusion of a solid cage, only for his hands to be sliced apart by what felt like a thousand daggers. Blind in the pain he fell to his knees, staring at the gashes that crisscrossed his palms, all glowing a faded violet.

"I'm not that easy to kill."

Arquin snapped his head to look behind him, nearly blinded by the sight of a dozen different lines of fel flames shooting out in all directions, consuming the blighted land beneath. Fiery hoof prints were left behind the approaching figure, sauntering coolly. The demon's flesh was a dark grey, Desarith's tattoos still lit across his chest, with hooves, and horns that curled out from the side of the forehead. Leathery wings were spread out from his back, taut for flight.

With a single look back upon the shifting form of Ellismera, Arquin picked himself up with a light struggle. He hunched over, transforming again as glassy, flexible wings burst from where his shoulder-blades met his spine and his body tipped off at a jagged point. Arquin took off to the sky, watching the ground through beady, segmented eyes as Desarith pushed off the ground in pursuit.

The demon hunter's attempts to strike the darting wasp with his glaives were all but in vain; the silithid far too fast for the heavy strikes Desarith was trying to deal. He let out a bitter howl, outstretching his hand as a volley of inky shadowbolts honed in on Arquin. The wasp dived and swerved, avoiding a number of the dark missiles, but one cut clean through his wing. With a screech, he struggled to retain altitude.

Desarith folded his wings in and dropped as well, glaive outstretched to cleave the final blow into the silithid. Arquin lashed out and clenched his claws around the demon hunter's weapon, skittering across the blade until he was close enough to jab his stinger into Desarith's chest. He howled once more, the puncture wound swelling and dripping green pus. Unable to keep flight, both of them crashed to the earth. Arquin's already malformed body contorted further and Desarith spasmed under the influence of the wasp's poison.

Shuddering, Arquin once more found himself in the form of a kaldorei. He ripped a dagger from the sheath at his belt and shakily stood up, trailing crimson behind him as he approached Desarith, whose demonic form was also retracting back into that of a night elf, "It's time to end this proper," Arquin muttered.

He moved to strike the blow, the dagger slashing down towards Desarith's throat, but his wrist was caught in an iron grip, "Wha--" Arquin began, before another hand clamped around his throat.

"There'll be none of that," Desarith snarled, the inferno in his eyes blazing.

Arquin screamed in agony as the draining fire seared straight into him, pulling parts away as easily as water falls through the hands. He writhed under the demon hunter's choking hold, his throat feeling like it might be crushed completely. Desperately he swung his arm with as much power as he could muster, the knife carving a bloody line across the base of Desarith's neck. Desarith let out a gurgling choke as he dropped Arquin to the ground and coughed out globs of red ichor.

The hive druid panted, each breath taking more strength than he thought he had. His entire body felt like lead that was being pressed down by the weight of a mountain. He glanced up at Desarith, wondering what move the demon hunter would make next, but he seemed in no better shape as he coughed out a lung's worth of blood. Another glare come from those fiery eyes, directed upon Arquin with pure hatred.

"So you can best me," Desarith growled, before falling into another fit of bloody coughing. "Enjoy your short victory. In the end I get the greater prize."

In horror, Arquin watched as Desarith walked clear away from him, towards the prison, and picked Ellismera from it with no more effort than one plucking an apple from a tree. He threw the woman over his shoulder, marring her frame with the blood that flowed down his body. Arquin tried to shout, but his voice was nothing more than a weak gasp he tried to push himself to his feet. Yet he could only watch as the demon hunter, on the edge of death, strode off with his love.

Weakly he pulled himself up, but soon collapsed again, hatred burning at the forefront of his mind for that man. Hatred that wouldn't be quenched until he found Ellismera, found her safe, and slaughtered the demon. He weakly jabbed his dagger into the earth, his fist clenched around the hilt. Hate was the only thing he remembered as he fell into blackness.

Hate and the sound of approaching hoof beats...

Post by Neonhyper

Author's Notes

- Those guys again. Bet you're getting a tad tired of them by now.

- This is one of those stories where the name has absolutely nothing to do with the story itself, and actually serves as a throwback to Forever Bound. Yay sequeal.

- Looks like we might need a triquel?

- I'm not sure it ended on exactly the right note, and probably could've done a lot better but I've been working on this since I woke up and my patience was starting to wear thin.

- WHERE'S MAH FEEDBACK GAIS! am disappoint.

Post by Patty

I'm running out of inventive ways to say it was amazing. :(

Post by 355559

This post was from a user who has deleted their account.

Post by Neonhyper

Post by 355559

This post was from a user who has deleted their account.

Post by Mojoworkn

Finally got around to reading this, and IMO just kinda kept dragging, expected Darsaith to say "you are not prepared" every time he got back up.

Just the opinion of your local troll. :P

This comment broke my heart.

I hope you're happy. =(
...

:(

Finally was able to read this too. I always enjoy reading your detail filled pieces Hyper. I especially liked the way you described Arquin transforming in to the different kinds of silithid (which by the way, kudos to your friend for coming up with that great silithid idea.) I personally liked Desarith, but maybe that's because I secretly like demon hunters. :)

Can we expect a sequel?

Post by Neonhyper

You can completely expect a sequel, eventually, but there will be one.

Because it bothers me to leave such ending I have given open.

Unending Chains {Story}

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