Oaksong Ch. 09: A Mother's Plan

While Talena pondered over the meaning behind the message, Shalendris went through the kitchen, peeking around every corner. After several minutes of searching without any additional hints, the druidess returned to her friend who had picked up the stone to inspect it closer when a sudden burst of silver light briefly blinded them both.

Talena dropped the stone onto the table in surprise, gasping.

When the light died down enough for them to open their eyes, the translucent figure of a male Kaldorei stood before them, only ten or so inches tall, hovering above the stone. With long, midnight-colored hair and black eyes streaked with red, Talena immediately recognized Xavius, one of Queen Azshara's most trusted advisors.

"But that's-" her words were cut short when the man's image started speaking.

"This is an urgent message from Queen Azshara! Any and all of the Queen's loyal subjects are to seek shelter behind the walls of her majesty's palace where you will be given food and shelter. Take only your most essential belongings and weapons, as well as food for the journey. Safe travels."

The message ended as abruptly as it had begun and the tiny stone from which the elven male had appeared had returned to its original state.

"But... I thought they said the Queen was taken captive?" Shalendris said. "Why would..." Then, it clicked, and she looked at Talena with wide eyes.

"Why would they want people in Zin-Azshari when that's where the demons are? Why would Delleren want us there?" Talena sat down on a nearby chair, a look of horror crossing her face as realization set in. "Could it be that Azshara is dead and the demons are simply trying to get us there to slaughter us with greater ease?"

Shalendris shook her head. "The resistance is already there... I saw them. They're making their way into the city as we speak."

"Perhaps, then, they aren't even expecting those people to make it there," Shalendris said. "But let's not waste more time than strictly necessary on trying to guess the intentions of these demons."

"You're right. We need to make it to safety," Talena agreed. "Though for now, we should probably find a bed... Our chances of surviving this whole ordeal will be vastly improved by a good night's rest."

Shalendris glanced around the darkened kitchen. "You're right, but I still don't feel like we should be here... Maybe I'm just being paranoid. This wouldn't be the first trap demons have set for us."

The sun was slowly creeping over the horizon, burning away the night's shadows as it did. They made their way to the master bedroom of the cottage, glad that there seemed to be nothing out of place there. Exhaustion rose to the surface, tugging at their every muscle and even the simple act of closing the room's curtains seemed a demanding endeavor for Shalendris.

The woman turned to Talena who was now busy looking through the room's belongings, rummaging about drawers and closets, seeing if there were clothes or other items that could be of use to them.

"Taking others' belongings, are we?" Shalendris said. "They might return, you know."

Talena nodded. "They might. They might not. I plan to return here after the war and repay their generosity," the teal-haired priestess said, reaching to squeeze her friend's hand reassuringly, a sad smile upon her fair features. "Fear not, I do not plan to turn to a life of banditry," she chuckled, trying to lighten the mood somewhat.

With an inelegant grunt, Talena pushed opened a wooden chest, depictions of wildlife carved into the exquisitely decorated lid. "Wonder what's in here," she whispered, eyes glowing with curiosity. The first thing she spotted was a smaller box filled with fresh linens along with some basic clothing such as trousers and dresses of Kaldorei cloth.

"At least we'll have better clothes for the rest of our trip," Shalendris said, chuckling.

The priestess pulled out one of the outfits, an emerald green dress lined in black fur. "What about this?" she said, placing it on the bed for Shalendris to observe.

"Beautiful," the other Kaldorei said. "Though not the most practical of dresses," she observed. "And... Well, I don't think I'd fit into it," Shalendris added, motioning to her chest. Even in their smallest state, the elf's breasts remained far larger than almost any Kaldorei's Talena had seen.

"Well, you can still wear something else," Talena replied. She walked back toward the chest, pulling out a green men's tunic and black leggings that seemed more suited for working in the garden than for any fancy gathering.

Shalendris laughed. "Ah, this seems better!" With that, she slipped into the outfit while Talena watched from the corner of her eye, admiring the curves of Shalendris's body. The roomier men's tunic seemed a better fit for the busty Kaldorei. It accentuated her voluptuous figure, showing off ample cleavage and making her waist look very narrow, as the purple-haired woman slipped a thin leather belt.

"There! Now how does that feel?" Talena asked, feeling a bit awkward herself for staring so openly at Shalendris's naked form as she changed.

Giggling, Shalendris looked up at her friend. "Much better!" she agreed, turning around to show off the new ensemble. "Now, you need to pick something for yourself."

Talena stepped over to the chest where they left their old clothes. Shalendris stood behind her, peering over the priestess's shoulder, having put away her previous outfit to make way for the borrowed one.

Both women admired the garments together. There were various types of pants, skirts, shirts, blouses, dresses, gowns, pouches that could hold various items or weapons, and even cloaks—all made of quality material.

Eventually, Talena settled on a simple white robe, quite similar to the classic robes that priestesses of Elune tended to wear. The two women found sewing supplies in a cupboard and adjusted the garment so that it went down to the knees rather than the ankles, also removing the sleeves.

"This should allow for greater ease of movement," Talena said, showing off the beautiful garment to Shalendris with a twirl.

The younger elf smiled at the sight. For a brief moment, it felt like the two friends had found some measure of happiness, a place where they could forget the horrors of war, the hunger, the exhaustion. But then they remembered that this was only temporary. The two would be leaving soon enough.

Talena gave Shalendris another reassuring squeeze of the hand, offering her friend a smile. They ate some of their rations, filling their bags up with what they could find from the garden and storage. Exhaustion finally caught up to them, and they collapsed on the large, comfy bed of the master bedroom. Their bodies pressed against each other, both smiling sleepily at the warmth of another person next to them, soft flesh pressing close to theirs, warm breath washing across cold skin, the smell of sweat mixing with perfume, sweet wine mixed with pungent herbs.

With a deep sigh of contentment, Shalendris closed her eyes.

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The hooded figure walked up the steps to the small temple, cloak billowing in the wind. Looking up, he frowned briefly at the great black and green cloud above Zin-Azshari, above the Well of Eternity. Countless fires raged throughout the once beautiful city. The stones of what had once been dwellings, temples and businesses were strewn about, oftentimes covering the bodies of innumerable elven victims. Some were more recent than others.

He nodded towards the two massive felguards standing guard at either side of the main entrance, wicked polearms crossed in front of the temple's doors. The two demons seemed not to acknowledge the elf's presence, but offered no hostile response, either.

There had never been need for armed guards at this temple before. Delleren's fingers gripped the hilt of his sword as he stepped in.

Priestesses paid him no mind as he silently walked through the hallways. He doubted they could, their eyes glazed over, most likely due to some demonic form of control.

Moans and screams echoed against the white walls of the building, unsure which was from pain and which from pleasure. While he was no man of faith, Delleren nonetheless remained disturbed at the sight of an Elunite temple being desecrated in such a manner. Evil sigils marred the once pristine walls of the place, glowing with sickly green light as all manner of demon patrolled the area, many taking great pleasure in tormenting those elves still alive.

He obeyed his queen's orders, but every encounter with the foul demons of the Burning Legion left him questioning even his normally unwavering devotion to Azshara. Why would the most powerful, the most beautiful of all Kaldorei seek to ally herself with such vile creatures? Why tolerate the wholesale massacre of so many of her kin? He hoped to one day know the answer.

Delleren followed the path leading deeper into the compound until he reached the back wall, where several doors lined the passage, presumably housing priests who aided the victims of these abominable rituals.

The central door, he knew, would lead him to the one in charge of this place. This time, the door was flanked by two great doomguards, winged creatures that eyed him with pure malice.

"Lord Nar'tuzel has been awaiting your return, elf," one of the two horned demons said. The disdain with which he'd spoken the word 'elf' made Delleren want to end the creature then and there.

Swallowing his pride and nodding slightly, Delleren pushed the massive doors open.

A large room lay beyond, filled with masses of writhing bodies, male, female, demonic and elven, all indulging in the pleasures of the flesh. Large pillows were strewn about and glowing orbs provided gentle lighting. Several naked, moaning elves occupied cushions throughout the chamber while others writhed upon the floor or stood atop tables. Some served drinks—wine, ale, mead—to those lounging around the space. All but a few looked up curiously when Delleren entered, none seeming overly concerned lest someone else intrude further within.

Nar'tuzel sat near the back of the chamber, reclining comfortably on top of a throne fashioned out of bone, rolling a small purple stone between his fingers. A flicker of light bouncing about the inside of that stone gave some insight as to its contents. He had seen demons trapping souls in such gems before. Two priestesses, still wearing the robes of the Sisterhood of Elune, were busy pleasuring him with eager mouths, his pillar of throbbing maleness rising proudly between the two mind-slaves. The massive demon could have been mistaken for a Night Elf, were it not for his red skin.

"Ah, Delleren! You return!" he said, looking down at the night elf who had just entered. "I am glad you are here." His voice sounded like thunder rumbling across hillsides.

Delleren bowed deeply.

"You've come alone?" asked the demon, mock disappointment tingeing those words.

Briefly, Delleren noted that eyes were upon him. Some full of pity, others full of anticipation. Dissatisfaction often meant death when Nar'tuzel was concerned.

"I do, though not for lack of success," replied the night elf.

Nar'tuzel raised an eyebrow questioningly, intrigued. "Is that so?"

Delleren's eyes met the demon's. "I will need an empty room."

The demon lord's laughter echoed throughout the great hall. "Very well. Tarraxis was a thorn in my side. You have earned that much from me," came Nar'tuzel's voice.

Delleren nodded absently before turning away, escorted out of what had once been the prayer hall, stepping over couples furiously fucking on the floor. In the hallway outside waited several priestesses clad in robes of various designs and fabrics, most of which had been modified to reveal the lithe forms beneath. A succubus, squeezed into priestly garments, moved about in some sort of twisted mockery of the priestesses. The demoness's curves were clearly far too great for those vestments, and flesh spilled and jiggled from what had been meant to be tasteful garments of mooncloth.

He wondered why these women had not been used as toys as the Legion had so many others or, if they had no use as such, why they were still alive at all. The demons seemed to enjoy wanton slaughter, after all.

Two of the women stepped towards him, bowing. "Greetings. This way," said the one on the right. She wore dirty blue robes, stained with what seemed to be blood. Their outfits were ripped in various places, seemingly to expose the modest cleavage otherwise hidden beneath.

"They're frightened," he thought. These women were being kept against their will, most likely. He had to trust that Azshara cooperated with the demons for a reason, that she was not simply bringing about the end of their proud race. Or perhaps this is just how we elves survive, he hoped silently. To submit completely to our enemies... The thought appealed little to him.

As they passed through the courtyard, a sudden tremor shook the temple. In the distance, Delleren could see streaks of yellow-green light flying through the sky, slowly hurtling towards their targets. He had seen these infernals used in battle a handful of times, most recently on the attack against the Tauren where he had eliminated the Dreadlord Tarraxis.

Battle was nearing Zin-Azshari, it seemed.

The sky above was so dark with wretched clouds that the assassin could not tell whether it was day or night.

"How do your new... leaders treat you?" asked the swordsman, hesitating on the word to describe the demons who'd taken control of the temple.

Down another corridor, they went—each step bouncing off the walls of the Temple complex, solemn echoes offering a strange musicality to the foreboding that permeated the air.

An awkward silence rang before the priestess on the left spoke, "Lord Nar'tuzel is... generous. We are still allowed to worship Elune." Her eyes glanced to the Burning Legion banners that had been installed to cover Elunite murals, as well as a shattered statue that had once depicted Mother Moon.

The walls shook yet again. The two priestesses stumbled slightly. One of them had to put her hand to the wall to avoid falling.

No further questions crossed his mind while walking along. So deep was the somber feeling growing within that he reconsidered this whole thing, wondering if he had been plunged into a nightmare of his own making.

Nar'tuzel's presence was felt everywhere. It was as though the demon lord had taken up residence in every corner of the temple. In a way, perhaps, he had. His essence polluted the very stones of the place with a foulness that permeated the air.

Through the corridors, past the demons and priestesses, with the former typically harassing the latter in one way or another, they walked until they reached a large room.

It was a simple chamber, with nothing more than a stone altar and a single chair. As they approached, the priestesses bowed low.

"We will assist however we can," said the woman to the right.

"I will need blankets. A pillow, perhaps."

The two priestesses looked to each other quizzically, before looking back at Delleren. "Blankets?" said the one on the right.

He nodded and stepped into the room. Anything to get them to leave.

Luckily for Delleren, the altar was made of wood and was quite easily removed. The chair as well. Once the room was empty, he barred the door to avoid any distractions. The Felhounds he'd seen in the complex would undoubtedly be attracted to the arcane ritual.

With a small box in hand, he moved to the centre of the room. Slowly, delicately, as though holding precious treasure, he opened it and took out a few items. From that box, he produced a tiny crystal sphere, only a few inches in diameter, gently placing it in the centre of the room.

His hands remained perfectly still as he then began tracing an arcane circle, recalling his prior training. It had seemed like so long ago that he was casting his first spell. He wondered what his classmates were up to, they who had all been Highborne as well. Were they still working for the Kaldorei Empire or had they joined up with the Resistance?

He closed his eyes and focused upon the crystal ball. While he remained outwardly calm and collected, he knew the consequences of failure. A single word of power left his lips.

In response, a small flame appeared near the base of the crystal ball, then grew larger. With a slight shudder, the fire began to spin, the sphere began rising. Arcane power licked at his skin, and every ounce of his physical self felt alive with that electrifying magic.

At last, the flames stopped spinning and formed a perfect sphere, glowing with a soft blue light. The runic circle began glowing with that same light.

The assassin leaned forward, placing his palms against the floor. He closed his eyes and concentrated. He needed to concentrate on the flow of energy through his body, the way it moved from his head down to his toes.

He needed to focus on every part of himself, and how it all flowed together.

When the time came, he would need to channel this energy inward, taking it from the outside world and focusing it on the crystal ball.

He breathed deeply, exhaling slowly.

Focus.

He inhaled again, holding the breath as he imagined his body filling with heat.

Then, he exhaled, letting the air escape through his mouth.

Delleren focused on his breathing. His mind calmed. His body stood still, as if frozen by time.

He was ready. Bringing his hands to the sides of the crystal ball, he focused all the gathered energy he could into the small sphere. An image appeared within it.

A sleeping female form. One he knew. She was beautiful. Long purple hair cascaded over her breasts, which were as large as the ripest of melons. She wore only a thin robe, and the fabric fell away from her ample hips. On her head, a lunar crescent drew his gaze.

Her breasts heaved gently as she slept. She was calm. "Good," he thought, "it is so much more difficult to recall struggling targets."

When she turned in her sleep, he spotted the arcane mark on her rear. It was still there, good. It matched some of the arcane sigils on the ground around him.

He swallowed hard, his throat dry. This was his target.

Mentally, he pulled upon the woman in the crystal sphere. A link formed between the sphere and her physical form, unfelt and unseen. Delleren nonetheless knew of its existence.

From the sphere, he felt the faintest sensation of a warm breeze. Then, the wind became stronger. More intense. Soon, it was strong enough to blow him back a step.

He held onto the crystal sphere with both hands. It was hot, almost burning his fingers. But he did not let go.

More of those arcane strands latched upon Shalendris, soon forming a net of intangible energy around her.

He continued to breathe deeply, exhaling the air from his lungs. The wind grew stronger, and soon it was strong enough that the night elf nearly felt himself be lifted off the ground. Steadying himself, he remained there, watching it spin beneath his touch.

The blue light was almost blinding, going from blue to white.

Delleren's eyes widened. He looked down at his hands. They were covered with sweat. The crystal sphere expanded in his hands until it became an ethereal sphere. The image of Shalendris kept growing.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself.

The wind grew even stronger, whipping his cloak about.

With a powerful tug, he pulled Shalendris to him. The sphere shattered into shimmering dust, leaving behind no debris. The light from the summoning circle vanished, leaving behind only burn marks. The air stilled.

At the center of the room lay a sleeping Shalendris. As the spell did not transport the target's clothes, the woman lay fully nude on the cold ground.