Weakness and Control

[Archivist~Bel]

Title: Weakness and Control
Authors: Sianne
Faction: Alliance
Link: The Azeroth Broadcasting Company


Chapter One

“So that just about covers everything you need to know...”

Sianne sat poised regally upon the edge of her bed, her ebon locks falling gracefully across her shoulders as smoldering dark eyes looked down at the Felhunter seated before her.

“Indeed, Mistress. All is understood. I shall serve you well.”

The Felhunter bent his front legs, bowing with surprising grace, and the warlock woman nodded and dismissed the demon with a wave of her hand.

Moments later, a flame burst erupted from the corner of the room, and Sianne frowned.

“I don’t like him!”

“You don’t like anyone or anything, and what have I told you about entering this realm without my permission?”

The little imp hopped up onto the bed, his head bobbing as he mockingly spoke, “You may only enter when I call you...you are under my command...stop doing that...blah blah blah blah bl...”

The sound of the slap echoed through the room, followed by the soft thud of an ethereal form hitting a wall. Nalyal picked himself up, but remained out of reach of his mistress, who was glaring angrily from across the room.

“All the others respect me, you know...how did I get cursed with an ungrateful impudent little bastard like you?”

He giggled, a disturbing sound. “Luck?” the imp grinned as he hopped over to a chair currently occupied by a sleeping feline form.

The screech that resounded through the room moments later was matched in atrocity only by the sickening smell of burning hair as the singed tail of a cat disappeared under the bed. Sianne dropped her head into her hand as the demon settled into the chair, a satisfied smirk on his face.
“I think I hate you,” she said between gritted teeth.

“Heh, it happens...why do you even still have that wretched animal anyway?”

She glanced across the room with sharp warning eyes, “That is hardly your concern.”

“It is precisely my concern! I have a reputation to uphold, you know...I can’t have my Mistress going soft…I will be the laughing stock of the Netherworld. Already they are starting to talk…get rid of it!”

“Mind your tongue, Nalyal…you are on dangerous ground.”

Ignoring her completely, he continued to talk in an irritated tone, “I don’t get it...you have had plenty of pets from your various playthings...whatshisface gave you that rabbit, and that rogue idiot gave you a white kitten...and you’ve had just about every animal in existence from just about any sucker that lays eyes on you...”

“Your point?” Sianne asked, obviously tiring of this bothersome disturbance.

“My point is that as soon as you got tired of your latest toy, the pet he gave you was shoved out the door…so why is this mangy creature still around? Furthermore, why in the name of shadow did you buy it yourself? You could have gotten anyone to buy it for you...”

The warlock stood then and went to the window, glancing out across the quiet Duskwood night, “Not anyone,” she said softly.

“What do you mean not any...” a soft gasp could be heard from the chair as Nalyal’s eyes narrowed in understanding. “That’s it, isn’t it?! It’s him! Yes, yes…the timing is right...you got that awful cat while he was around. The paladin...what was his name? Kormo…Kota…Kori…”

“Silence!” Sianne spun to face the demon, the cold night air dancing against her back.

Nalyal regarded his mistress for a moment, then a slow smile crept into his features and he spoke, his voice oily with satisfaction, “So the great Sianne has a weakness after all...”

A cruel laughter faded into silence as the demon was banished with a wave of the warlock’s hand. Sianne sat down heavily on the bed and sighed.

“He’s gone,” she spoke softly, a kind tone that few ever heard in her voice, “Come here, Sam, I’ll bandage your tail.”

[Archivist~Bel]

Chapter Two

“There they are, Koro! The children I told you about. They do so remind me of us...do you remember?”

The man smiled softly as his eyes traveled to the two youngsters fishing from the pier in Lakeshire. “Aye, Sianne, I remember.”

“She even has a cat, though her cat does not look like the one I had as a child. Did I tell you that I saw a kitten the other day in Elwynn that looked exactly like Sammie?” She glanced sideways at him, recalling the letter she had sent only days earlier containing a thinly veiled request for the kitten.

He seemed to sigh softly, and his gaze traveled from the children to the horizon of the bay. “Aye, Sianne, you did.”

The warlock woman frowned. It was not so long ago that he would run and fetch whatever she desired at the slightest hint of desiring it…this new development was not to her liking. She had to do something to strengthen her hold over him before he slipped away entirely. Sianne’s toys never left until she was bored with them, and even then they remained pining on the sidelines like velveteen rabbits.

Sianne reached out and slid her hand gently across his arm, tilting her head with a soft smile as he turned and his eyes met hers. “Let’s play, Koro.”

He raised an eyebrow, “Play?”

“Indeed,” she said, her smile dancing into a smirk as she moved forward and brought her lips to his ear, her breath hot against his skin, “the games I know now are a lot more fun than the ones we used to play.”

He pulled away from her, ignoring the pout upon her lips, and frowned down at her, “No, Sianne.”

Her eyes burned with fury as her pout turned to an instant rage, “Do you hate me so?”

The paladin sighed and gazed down at the harsh and acerbic woman, “Quite the contrary,” he spoke softly as he turned from her and began to walk away...

"I love you, Sianne.”

”You...you what?” Sianne opened her eyes, heavy with sleep, and regarded the man gazing at her from his pillow.

“I love you,” he repeated, and she sighed and glanced around the room of the Stormwind inn. Tendrils of light danced around the room as dawn had long since chased away the night, creating a mosaic of brilliance upon the wooden floor. The light betrayed the chill of the morning air, as Sianne sat up and slipped out of bed.

“Nonsense, you do not…”, she said roughly as she pulled on her robe and straightened her hair.

“Oh, but I do…how could I not? You are wonderful, and passionate, and perf…”

“Enough!” Sianne wrinkled her nose as she turned and regarded the man, “Really, Barro, I am disappointed in you.”

The man frowned, a downcast look shadowing his face, “So you do not love me?”

“Love you?!” She laughed as she pulled on her boots, “No, I do not love you!”

“Oh...”

“Love is a weakness I have no time to possess…do not seek me out again until you have grown a backbone.”

As she closed the door behind her and stepped out into the hall, a figure emerged from the shadows. “Well, that was rather...amusing.”

“Yes, I suppose you would find it so...I apologize for being late; I overslept.”

“Not sleeping well?”

“Not especially…”

“Bad dreams?”

“No...yes...don’t we have someone to kill?”

The rogue chuckled and began to walk down the stairs, “Isn’t there always someone to kill?”

[Archivist~Bel]

Chapter Three

Sianne slid gracefully from the back of the gryphon and bent to gently release a black cat from her arms. As she relieved her skirt of the creases of travel, a deep voice, lined with silken charm, came from the shadows behind her, “Ah Sianne, it is a pleasure to meet you.”

Sianne turned as the man stepped into the light, “The honor is mine,” she smiled as she curtsied deeply, “I have long looked forward to meeting the legend.”
She regarded the man before her with a mix of curiosity and respect. In her younger days, Sianne would have seen him as a challenge, an exciting opportunity to dance a dangerous dance. However, wisdom came with experience…and a wise woman knew not to deal cards to a devil and hope to win.

The rogue smirked, “I am no legend,” his smirk danced at the edges of a grin, “legends tend not to be true.” He bowed deeply, “VanCelt at your service. I hear that you are in need of assistance?”

“Indeed, I have been having a terrible time carrying out an assignment in the Stormwind Stockades. But first, I require help with a dwarven problem nearby.”

“Then let us get started,” he said, slipping a coin to the stable master, “since you are a friend of Koro’s, I shall walk with you rather than ride ahead.”

“I appreciate that, although Koro and I unfortunately lost touch,” she strained to keep emotion from her voice.

“Oh? A pity. Well, I would have walked with you anyway…a handsome man without manners is a waste of good fortune.” He winked, and she smiled in return.

“Have you spoken with Koro lately?” Feign disinterest, Sianne! Idle banter...stop being weak, woman!

“Not lately. He has moved around quite a bit, though last I heard he had grown quite strong, near his 50th season or so.”

“Ah, I see…well, it is nice to hear that he finally found the right path and applied himself.”

“Quite...do me a favor, dear, and get out of the way; these dwarves seem to like you.” The rogue smirked and ran forward in a flurring of blades.

“Wow, that was…fast.”

He bowed, and she chuckled.

“I heard you married…and yet you bear no ring?” she asked, tilting her head.

“Well, I am no longer married…..darling, please stop getting so close to the dwarves...but even when I was, I wore no ring.”

“Well, I am sorry to hear your marriage failed, but that is love for you…a weakness and a waste of time.”

VanCelt turned to regard the warlock woman as his knife slipped across the throat of the dwarf beside him. “Nonsense, love is a wonderful way to pass the time.”

“I disagree, love is weak and controlling and turns men into slaves.”

The rogue shrugged and smirked slyly at Sianne, “It sounds to me like you are just afraid of being weak, which is ironic since fear is a far greater weakness than love…”

Sianne frowned, “I tire of this conversation…”

VanCelt chuckled as he wiped blood from his blade, “Afraid I am right?”

“Quite the contrary,” she smirked, idly twirling an ebon lock between her fingers, “I simply have no interest in debating with people who disagree with me.”

[Archivist~Bel]

Chapter Four

The river whispered a peaceful song as the water slowly passed by the couple on the bank. It was the only thing of peace that existed in the dark, sinfully mysterious region of Duskwood. Off in the distance, the call of howling wolves echoed through the hills.

“This is the perfect place for us.”

Sianne raised her head from the man’s shoulder and smiled, “Indeed, I adore it here…so wonderfully full of secrets and shadows. I wish my father had bought land here in Duskwood instead of in Westfall.”

“Maybe we should…”

She quirked a confused brow, “Maybe we should what?”

“Buy land here…we should make a home here. We need to start considering the future, Sianne.”

Sianne sighed and looked up at the night sky, “Oh Draymon, we’ve been over this; the future is of no concern to me. I do not plan, I do not make promises, I do not commit…at least not to relationships…”

The warlock woman kissed the man and pulled away from his embrace, rising gracefully to her feet, “Jobs, however, are a different matter, and I am late for one. I must go.”

“Do you wish to spend the rest of your life alone, Sianne?”

She smirked, “I am more suited to remaining unattached, yet never alone.”

“And what of love?”

Sianne wrinkled her nose, “Why does everyone always insist on involving love? Love is weak.”

“It can be strength if you allow it to be so…”

“No, it can not,” she replied, turning away and melting into the shadows, “I loved once, and I shall never do so again.”

The long walk back to Darkshire seemed an eternity. Ordinarily, Sianne would have summoned a demon to bide the time, but this night she desired the solitude.
I loved once, and I shall never do so again.
“How foolish I was,” she thought to herself, her mind turning inwards as memories flooded her sight.

How long ago had it been? Months? Surely not a year…

They had been seated together by the lighthouse, gazing out across the sea. The coast behind them had been dotted by the campfires of the Defias, and it had been a peaceful night…

How had it started? How did they reach that fateful…wonderful…moment?

“You win, Sianne,” he had said…his voice carrying the defeat of a thousand dying armies…”You win…I love you, I have always loved you, and I will always love you…”

Had he sighed then?

“I tried to prove myself worthy of you…to prove to you that I could be a man…a man deserving of more than your idle amusement…

I have trained for you, grown strong for you…

All that I have done has been for you…because of you…

And yet here I am, unable to break free of you…

You have won, Sianne…”

What was that feeling? It was supposed to be triumph, satisfaction…

But it had been something else…and the words she spoke had been alien to her…

“I have won nothing, Korodullin…I love you.”

“I told you, Sianne…you win. There is no need to be cruel; the game is over.”

And she had turned, and looked at him, her eyes stinging…it had been the salty air of the ocean, nothing more…that had brought the tears to her eyes…

“Love is not my path, Koro…and so here we must part, but I need you to believe this, for it may be the most honest moment you shall ever have of me…I love you.”

Had he smiled? Had he nodded? He had stood…and walked away…

“I believe you. I shall honor your wishes, Sianne. You shall not see me again…”

And she had not seen him since…

A low rumbling growl interrupted her thoughts, and Sianne blinked, glancing around.
“Where in the name of Shadow, am I? Gods, Sianne, you’re an idiot…now I have to…”

Another growl spun her around as she peered through the shadowed forest. Glowing eyes peered out at her, hungry and vicious.

“Uh-oh,” she thought as the Worgen howled and leapt towards its prey.

[Archivist~Bel]

Chapter Five

The words ‘uh-oh’ rarely passed the warlock woman’s lips. Sianne did not make mistakes…she did nothing that was not a carefully placed move of a pawn upon a chess board. And yet those words broke softly through the night air as the Worgen flew towards her, death written upon its jaw.

She reached down, pulling a soul shard from her pocket, feeling for perhaps the thousandth time the silent plea of pain and suffering trapped within the crystalline facets. She needed strength, she knew, and so she began to chant, stealing herself for the pain that she knew she must soon ignore. Her voice faltered, breaking the spell, as the large form hit her squarely, sending her flying backwards, and, in a moment, the Worgen was on top of her. She glared into its eyes, the eyes of a soul long lost to insanity, and growled, terror released upon her tongue. The animal’s eyes grew wide, and it retreated, fleeing blindly to the safety of the surrounding forest.

Although Sianne knew the implanted fear would last only moments, they were precious moments. Ignoring the pain, and the growing moisture, of the deep gashes upon her arms and chest, she began again to chant, focusing her energy into tearing open the fabric between this world and another.

“Hathjuk, answer the summons of your mistress!” she cried as she saw the form of the Worgen returning from the shadows. The voidwalker appeared with a low growl of shadow, and sped towards the creature. Sianne’s eyes widened slightly as she saw another form following closely behind the first…the Worgen had alerted another in his state of panic.

Her wounds were beginning to drain her strength, and stumbling slightly, Sianne quickly threw a bandage around the deepest gash upon her arm and concentrated a curse of recklessness upon one of the Worgen currently battling the voidwalker.

We cannot afford to have one flee and bring yet another, she thought, being careful not to draw the attention of the creatures.

Moments stretched through time as Sianne cast carefully timed spells and Hathjuk fought to maintain the attention of the Worgen. The battle seemed without end, and yet Sianne knew an end would come soon. She was growing weaker by the second, and the demon’s strength was fading, yet the beasts still attacked with ferocity, seemingly energized by the pain they were inflicting.

“They are too strong, Mistress,” Hathjuk grunted as he struggled to stay standing against the onslaught of the two creatures. Knowing that her survival depended upon the continued survival of her demon, Sianne channeled her own health to the voidwalker. She fell to her knees as her already injured body was drained further, and yet as fast as she replenished his health, it was taken by the claws and teeth of the beasts.

“Go, Mistress, run…I shall protect you.”

“Hathjuk…” she stopped, realizing the inevitability of defeat and nodded, struggling to her feet.

A moment later, a cry of release echoed through the surrounding forest, followed by the sharp clang of metal against metal as the voidwalker’s bracers hit the ground. A shield of energy, borne of the demon’s sacrifice, surrounded the warlock woman, and she stumbled quickly through the forest.

Growls of frustration bit at her heels as the Worgen chased her, angered by their inability to harm a prey within reach. Sianne felt the energy of the shield fading and hurried her pace, yet her wounds injured her speed and moments later, a sharp pain ripped through her leg. She fell as the claws lacerated her calf, and she closed her eyes against the image of the beast’s jaws inches from her face.

As saliva dripped upon her cheeks, Sianne cursed her fate.

So this is how it shall end? How mediocre…, she thought briefly before the image of a man blanketed her thoughts like the sleep before death.

Koro…

It took a moment for Sianne to realize that not only was she still alive, but the weight upon her body had disappeared. Before she could open her eyes, her body was enveloped in a warm liquid sensation…she felt her wounds closing and strength return to her limbs.

Koro? A glimmer of hope whispered through her as she opened her eyes…

Her sight hazy, she saw him…the familiar blond hair silhouetted against the dark night sky. Reaching out weakly, words fell breathlessly from her lips.

Her heart stopped as he began to bend down towards her…

“Mochxa!”

The urgent sound of a female voice turned the man’s head, and he disappeared from Sianne’s horizontal view, leaving only the dark canopy against the dark sky in her confused sight.

It was only then that Sianne heard the growls of the Worgen and the grunts of battle nearby. Sitting up slowly, the warlock woman raised an eyebrow in surprise as she saw a woman in the shadows, battling one of the beasts. A hunched body lay at her feet, and Sianne could only assume it was one of the two creatures that had almost taken her life. Standing at the edges of battle was the man she had seen, casting spells of light upon the warrior woman.

As Sianne stood uncertainly, leaning against a nearby tree for support, the last of the Worgen fell with a cry, and, sheathing her sword, the warrior stepped into the moonlight. Sianne gasped, her gasp turning into a soft cough, as the woman came towards her, following closely by the man who was now plainly not Korodullin. The warrior bore a striking resemblance to Sianne, and if it were not for the encasement of metal she wore, one woman could easily be mistaken for the other.

With a quick assessing gaze of Sianne’s physical state, the woman grinned.

“Greetings, I’m Agallah,” she gestured to the man coming to stand beside her, “and this is Mochxa.”

[Archivist~Bel]

Chapter Six

“You are crazy.”

“It’s a hobby,” Agallah shrugged, grinning at Sianne as she walked from the gnoll camp now littered with bodies.

It had been several days since the three had met in the dark forests of Duskwood, and the fifth time that Sianne had questioned Agallah’s mental state. Initially, the warlock woman had stayed with them simply to repay the favor of her life…she cared little for women, and even less for priests.

After a short introduction, the group had traveled to Raven Hill, where Sianne had agreed to aid them in the collection of bones. Nalyal cast his mistress a curious glance upon his summons.

“Since when do you help people?”

“Quiet, Nalyal.”

“Is that a woman?”

“I said be quiet…”

“By Shadow, is that a priest!?”

“Shut up!”

Simple people, Sianne had thought as they wandered through the graveyard, obviously they are not strong enough to accomplish such tasks alone. Moments later, the warrior woman had turned and regarded Sianne. “We’ll see how you do,” Agallah had said to the complete surprise and insult of the warlock, “perhaps you will be able to keep up with us.”

Sianne scoffed, her ire rising, only to have her eyes widen as the warrior woman charged towards Mor’Ladim.

“Are you out of your mind?!” she had cried after the woman.

Grinning widely and rushing to the edge of battle, Mochxa had winked at Sianne, “Yes…yes, she is.”

What seemed an eternity and a harried change of demons later, the voidwalker watched his mistress respectfully as she bandaged her wounds. Mochxa was chuckling to himself as he examined his own wounds, and Agallah was grinning widely as she searched the limp body of the undead lord. “You are crazy…,” Sianne said, wiping the sweat from her brow, “I cannot believe we survived that.”

Looking up, Agallah smiled playfully, “You better get used to it if you are going to stick around.”

Stick around? Sianne pondered, I must admit…that was fun.

Sianne grinned back now at Agallah as the group traveled across the marshy swamps of the Wetlands towards Menethil. To her utter surprise, something meant to be only temporary had become a new part of her life.

Sianne glanced sideways at Mochxa. The priest could have represented more of a challenge in terms of amicability, for the warlock carried an intense dislike of priests. Could have…had it not been for the priest’s affinity for shadow. Sianne’s jaw had dropped the first time she witnessed Mochxa take control of another being…she ached for such control, and could do nothing but respect one who could wield it.

A sharp whistle brought Sianne to the moment as Agallah rolled her eyes. “Tongue in, dear,” she said simply, watching Mochxa’s eyes follow a passing woman. Sianne raised an eyebrow, and leaned in to whisper to the warrior woman, “You should keep your man on a tighter leash.”

Agallah laughed loudly, “What do I care where he looks? He comes to me first, and last, and he keeps me alive…all else is meaningless.”

The warrior smiled as the warlock’s slightly confused look.

“Do you have a man, Sianne?”

“I have several,” she shrugged, “I thought I found a good one in a recent rogue, but he started to talk of love…it was quite the disappointment.”

“The only thing I love is a good fight,” Agallah grinned.

Sianne glanced back at Mochxa, who nodded, “It’s true.”

“Coming, dear?,” she asked the priest as she climbed onto the back of the gryphon, and then smiled to Sianne, “We shall see you later, yes?”

Sianne nodded and waved goodbye to Agallah as Mochxa came to stand beside her. “Love is not always about control, Sianne…it can be freedom,” he said before walking on towards the flight master.

The warlock woman frowned as she walked over to the nearby mailbox, but her frown quickly spread into a sly smirk as she retrieved an envelope. VanCelt…perhaps the legend wishes to play after all, she thought, a smile dancing upon her lips.

Turning the parchment over in her hands, Sianne sauntered upstairs to an empty room. Moments later, a restrained sob and the soft thud of a woman falling to her knees echoed through the inn, followed shortly by the maniacal laughter of an imp reading a letter that had fluttered to the ground.

[Archivist~Bel]

Chapter Seven

Dear Sianne, new information has come to light…

Sianne knew not why she had come, yet her slow footsteps fell upon the land of Westfall once more.

His party was besieged in the Plaguelands…

She walked without a demon by her side; she walked without her head held high; she walked upon her own land as a sentenced man walks to the gallows…

As his party fled, Korodullin stayed behind to fight…

She sighed softly as she stood at the borders of her family estate, lingering a moment as her gaze fell across their childhood home.

His family has not yet been notified, but as I understand it, they reside under the house of your father…

Her steps brought her to a small cottage upon the grounds, just past the mansion courtyard, and, closing her eyes tightly for a brief moment, Sianne knocked gently upon the door.

In the unlikely event that we are lucky enough to find pieces of his body, I shall let you know…

The door opened, and warm light fell upon the dark shadows of the warlock woman.

“Lady Sianne! What a pleasant surprise! Come in, milady, come in…”

Sianne smiled despite herself as the kindly woman ushered her into the small room beyond the door. A fire burned, and the smell of spices and buttermilk filled the air…

Nothing has changed, she thought, her eyes stinging for a moment before she pushed the pain away.

“Oh my,” the woman said, taking the warlock woman’s hands and looking her over, “you are simply stunning…but then you always were.”

“Sit down, darling,” Koro’s mother smiled as she poured a cup of tea and placed it on the table in front of Sianne, “Tell me, dear, what brings you here?”

Sianne looked down, examining the grain of the kitchen table, her hands folded around the warmth of the clay cup, “I…um…”
“I am surprised Koro is not with you…he was always trying to get you to come home,” she interrupted, glancing at the door.

As a pained look flashed across her face, Sianne looked up, “To be honest, Koro and I lost touch some time ago, but…”

“Really? How odd,” his mother interjected, “he never stopped talking about you…why the last time he was here, which would have been, oh, about two months ago now, I asked how you were, and…are you alright, my dear?”

Sianne nodded weakly, “Yes, but I really must tell…”

“Oh, my boy has always adored you, Lady Sianne…come, look at this,” the woman rose and gestured for Sianne to follow her through a nearby doorway.

The room was damp and shadows fell across dusty surfaces as Koro’s mother lit a nearby lamp. “Everything is just as it was when Koro went off to train all those years ago,” she said bending to retrieve a box from the floor, “We have little use for the room.” She placed it on the bed, and turned to smile at the warlock woman, “You look, dear. I must see to dinner before Father returns home.”

As the woman bustled out into the kitchen, Sianne stood for a moment and surveyed the room before her. Stone walls and wooden flooring encased a simple idea of home. I never realized, she thought, just how little he had...She slid her fingers across the surface of a desk as she walked over to the bed, noting the handmade quills left in the pot of dried black ink. I never cared to see…

She sat down and frowned in surprise as she sank no more than half an inch. No night in her life had Sianne slept on less than feathered mattresses that cradled a body into the dream world…never had she encountered such a poor excuse for comfort. She ran her fingers across the wooden carvings on the box beside her. The worn surface belied the age of the container, and Sianne could not help but wonder how many generations had stored all that was precious to them within it.

She opened the lid with care. Letters and poems comprised the bulk of this history of emotion…some written in the playful scrawl of a pining child…others in the contemplative script of a sorrowful man…all faded with an age of lying in shadow. She smiled softly to herself as she read one after the other. You were no poet, my dear, she thought with a soft smirk upon her lips as she encountered a particularly awkward description of how the sunlight looked upon her hair.
A scroll bag lay to one side of the box, and as Sianne opened it to retrieve the rolled parchments within, a small object fell into her hand. A cord of leather strung through a single pearl lay in the palm of her hand, and the warlock woman tied it around her wrist with a soft smile. How many times did you dive for clams to find a pearl? How long did it take you to bore a hole through it? She sighed softly, I finally understand…
The rolled parchments revealed sketches of various subjects…a horse…the lighthouse…she giggled at an attempt to portray Farmer Saldean that left him looking very like one of his harvesters. Poor Koro, art really was not your…Her breath caught in her throat as she reached the last parchment. Tears stung her eyes as Sianne’s fingers traced the lines of a sketch drawn of her countless years ago. In all of the libraries and palaces of Azeroth, Sianne had seen no picture created with such care and detail. I never posed, she realized, he drew this from memory…

Muffled voices pulled Sianne from her reverie, and she returned the parchments to the box, closing the lid with a pang of regret. She stood and shook her head softly, Stop being weak, woman…do what you came to do…

As she stepped out of the doorway, a cold stare immediately met her gaze. “Mistress Sianne,” the man bowed his head curtly, “why are you here?”

“Now, Father, that’s no way to be treating Lady Sianne!”

“I…I am afraid I came to deliver unfortunate news…” she fidgeted, eyes boring holes into the knots of the wooden floorboards, “Koro is missing…in the plaguelands…”
She stopped, jumping slightly at the sound of crashing pots and pans.

“I am sorry…I…I thought you should know…if I hear anything further…”

A loud sobbing cry rang through the cottage, and within it, Sianne heard her own pain…pain she had been fighting against…

As Koro’s father rushed to support his wife, he turned a sharp eye on the warlock woman, “Leave,” he said simply, and Sianne nodded, head bowed, and walked briskly out of the front door.

[Archivist~Bel]

Chapter Eight

Dusk had enveloped Westfall, and light rain sparkled in the dim moonlight as Sianne's soft steps carried her to the mansion courtyard. Long shadows danced across stone and marble surfaces as she stopped under the open sky, dark eyes searching for solace in the heavy night. A stray finger gently brushed her cheek, chasing tears and raindrops.

Towards the corner of the courtyard stood a small statue on a stone pedestal, and Sianne paused before it. A woman of marble, of elegance and grace, watched the stars above...an angel who had once had wings of glass...

"I made this for you, Sianne," the boy of 12 said, a crimson flush peeking from his collar, as he held out a simple bracelet.

The girl laughed as she raised a cruel eyebrow and took the leather-strung pearl from the boy's hand, "And what...exactly...do you expect me to do with this?"

"I," he faltered slightly, "I thought you might wear it..."

"Wear it?," her voice held a mocking disbelief, "Diminish the wrist of a lady with a common leather strap?"

She narrowed her eyes and raised a graceful hand, "This wrist, Koro, is meant for diamonds and gold, not a worthless piece of junk like this." She flung the bracelet over her shoulder with a piercing triumphant glare.

"Sianne, no!"

She spun as the sound of shattering glass echoed through the courtyard, and shouts were heard from within the house.

Sianne's father rushed out, followed closely by several servants. "What has happened here?!" her father asked as he angrily inspected the shattered wings of a marble angel.

Korodullin's father narrowed his eyes and glanced at Sianne as the young boy stepped forward, "I did it, sir. I was being careless."

Sianne said nothing as the punishment was declared, said nothing as she watched the beating from her window, said nothing even as he looked up at her and gave her a soft smile through his pain...

"I'm sorry," she whispered into the night, her fingers clutching the bracelet around her wrist.

"No, you are not." The voice of Korodullin's father cut through the night, and Sianne turned with a startled look.

He stepped forward, a grim frown upon his brow, "Some things never change, Lady Sianne...some women remain heartless," he glanced at the statue behind her, "some statues remain broken...and my son continues to suffer on your behalf. Did you think that coming here would relieve your guilt, Mistress? If my son is dead, then do not doubt that it is by your hand...from the moment he laid eyes upon you, you have done nothing but destroy him."

She said nothing as he turned away and disappeared into the house. Silence fell upon the courtyard as the warlock woman fought to regain control over knees that begged to crumble. Finally, she took a step towards the house and lost the battle with a soft cry. Strong arms caught her as she began to fall and carried her to a bench beneath the overhang that bordered the open courtyard.

Long moments passed as silent sobs shivered through her. "You know," the man said as he pulled the warlock woman back from where her head had been buried on his shoulder and gently wiped the tears from her cheeks, "this shirt is silk..."

Sianne gave him a startled look as she pulled away from him and straightened her shoulders, her voice suddenly detached, "How long have you been here?"

VanCelt shook his head, this damn woman..., "Long enough...I was waiting for you."

"Waiting for me?"

He surveyed her for a moment and nodded, "I came to deliver the news to Korodullin's family. I must admit I was surprised when I was informed that you were already here..."

"Surprised? Your letter..."

"Aye, I know what it said...I just did not think you would do it," he winked slyly, and she frowned and glanced away.

"So, VanCelt, has there been any news of Koro?"

"News? No, I doubt there will be."

She looked up at him, her eyes dark, "Has anyone been sent to find him?"

"No, his family cannot finance such an operation."

"Then I will..."

"There is no use, Sianne."

"No use?!" She rose and stood before him, her hands upon her hips, "Do not tell me there is no hope when nothing has yet been tried! Someone must go...someone must be willing..."

Pain turned into cold anger as a hopeless look became a glare, "You were his friend, were you not, VanCelt? How can you be so cold?"

"I knew him well, Sianne...well enough to know that he would be angry with me if I put anyone else in danger."

Her lips thinned as Sianne realized the truth of his words, "His anger with me would be nothing new...perhaps I could find someone willing to go and search for him..."

VanCelt rose from the bench, "There may be one willing to go...speak with his mentor, Mordyn."

"Mordyn?" Her shoulders slumped slightly, "Solsticia's man? He...he does not care much for me..."

The rogue grinned slightly, "Then let us hope that his sense of duty and caring for Koro outweighs whatever impression you may have left with him."

He bowed and smiled softly at her. "I wish you luck, Lady Sianne," he said as he turned and vanished into the shadows.

to be continued...