InsaneJournal

Kalya shivered within the heavy furs she’d been given after they passed back through Orgrimmar on the way to Winterspring and asked, “Is it always like this here?”

“Indeed it is,” rumbled Kwaaku in response, who wore the fur of some great bear across his shoulders now. “Hence the name Winterspring, as winter simply seems to spring up from here and remain.”

Necronim grunted and hunched further down in his saddle ahead of them, huddling into a fur Kalya had given him after he had started shivering. “Winter,” he grumbled, “ought to only come once a year in my opinion. It’s not right for it to always be here.”

He then leaned forward to shout ahead of them, “And it’s not right for you to enjoy it this much!”

Scyllaine giggled back at him from where she had rode ahead and raised her arms to the sky, opening her mouth to catch snowflakes as they fell. Where Necronim could still sense intense pain and feelings, Scyllaine was immune to such things as much as her throat was produce sounds to speak anymore.

The rogue grunted then sat up sharply as the outline of a cave rose up ahead of them. Kalya gasped as the bear-shaped entrance loomed up then shrieked as something equally bear-like lumbered forward with a growl.

It twisted towards her, eyes narrowed, then turned to Necronim, growling in its own language. He leaned down, saying, “Peace, Salfa. We’re only here seeking a mage, not to pass through.”

The furbolg cocked its head to the side then said, “Hresden? This is who you seek?”

“He is,” confirmed Necronim.

Salfa nodded, saying, “I will get him. You must stay.”

“Why must we stay?” asked Kalya curiously, warily eyeing the furbolg as he lumbered off into the cave.

Kwaaku rumbled a chuckle and replied, “We are not friends of the Timbermaw as Hresden seems to have become. They only allow those who are friends to entire their holdings…I am truly surprised he even spoke to us.”

“I’ve dealt with them a few times before,” said Necronim. “They’re fair enough folk when you…”

“Bal’a dash, malanore!”

Kalya had to blink twice at the figure that had appeared in the mouth of the cave. The elf was tall – but shorter than his sister – with short brown hair that spiked back from his face and wearing a simple pair of pants with a pale sleeveless shirt and well-worn boots. His eyes lacked the fel glow of his sibling’s and were a pale green that shone with arcane power out of his tanned face. He moved forward across the ground with an ease she didn’t think a mage could have and clasped Necronim’s outreached hand at the wrist.

“It’s good to see you, friend,” he said warmly. “But what brings you all the way out here to see me? You hate the cold!”

“We’re on a mission of sorts,” replied the rogue. He frowned then asked, “You haven’t been in town in a while, have you?”

Hresden shook his head, as he said, “Not for four months or so. I have a little sleeping spot in the Hold and the furbolg are nice enough company once you get to know them. Why?”

Necronim quickly explained the situation with the Undercity then went into the details of the wraith and the spell they suspected its master was concocting. Hresden frowned through the entire thing, fingers stroking his chin and the minute growth on it, then closed his eyes wearily.

“This is…this is bad,” he muttered. Sighing, he looked up at Necronim and stated, “You have gotten yourself into a heap of trouble, my friend.”

“Can you help?” asked Kalya, almost fearing he wasn’t going to.

Hresden smiled at her in response then nodded, saying, “Oh, yes, I’ll help. What else could I do for my good friend?” He glanced behind him at the Hold then ran a hand back through his hair before adding, “Give me a moment to gather my stuff up, say goodbye’s, and figure out where Corain went off to.”

Necronim nodded then blinked as Kalya leaned over after the mage turned to retreat back into the tunnels.

“He has muscles,” she breathed. “And didn’t seem to notice the cold at all. He isn’t like any sort of mage I’ve ever seen!”

“Hresden is a creature all his own, as I said,” he replied, cocking his head towards her. “He is…not quite what his contemporaries would think of as a mage. Mostly as he spent what of his childhood and youth he didn’t spend in arcane studies, following his sister around in the wild and learning from her. He knows how to track, how to use a blade just as well as her or any warrior, how to string a bow, and several other things to survive in the wilds. And that too is a reason for him to be used to the cold besides the year spent here.”

Kalya frowned then nodded, smiling slightly. He blinked at her and asked, “What?”

“Lymalis was right; you do keep strange company.”

Necronim snorted but smiled as Kwaaku laughed mightily followed by Scyllaine’s quiet, hoarse giggle. He then swung down from his wolf’s back as Hresden reappeared, now wearing a tunic and heavy cloak with the hood pulled up, and took one of the two bags he was carrying. The High Elf smiled then whistled, looking around before he called out, “Corain! Corain, you old bag of bones, pull yourself together!”

“Wha…ohmy!”

Kalya gasped as the snow nearby shifted then a shape rose up out of it, bones crusted with ice forming together into the shape of a horse. Yellow eyes glowed from within its skull and Hresden swung the bag he still held onto his shoulder and he stepped forward towards the horse. Warmth surrounded all of them suddenly and they all gasped as the snow melted around them as the ice flowed off the bones of the horse. It let loose with its strange, echoing whinny and thrust its bony head into Hresden’s outstretched hands, he smiling as he murmured, “There you are, old girl. Salfa, you still have her saddle?”

The furbolg grunted in response then hefted up the leather saddle and a ragged blanket with a bridle slung across it. Hresden took it with a smile and a growl in which might’ve been Salfa’s language and easily settled it into place onto the bony back, securing it and the two bags in place with quick motions. Then he turned to Necronim and said, “We can ride to Everlook and see about getting…wait, how did you four get here if not through the Hold?”

“A very unknown path from Azshara,” replied Necronim with a smile. “One I learned from SI:7.”

“Ah, one of those. Is that the way you plan to head back?”

“That was the plan.” The rogue shrugged then asked, “What were you saying?”

“We could see about getting some help in Everlook but we’ll likely have to head to Orgrimmar for anything for this spell they’re concocting.” Hresden frowned then swung up onto his horse’s back with a sound of rattling bones. He sighed as he added, “I might even have to make a trip to Silvermoon or, all forbid, somehow manage to make my way into Theramore. Which that, my friends, will be ever so exciting.”

Necronim smiled as he got back up onto his wolf’s back, saying, “I’m sure you’ll find some way in, Hres. By the way, this is Kalya and Scyllaine, so as we have introductions.”

The elf bowed slightly in his saddle with a, “A pleasure to meet you fair ladies. Though strange that you travel with a human, Nec.”

“Yet in our travels together, most have called you a stranger companion than her,” shot back the rogue with a wry grin.

“They just don’t understand eccentricity.”

Necronim just smiled and said, “Ah, I have missed having you around, whelp.”

“Whelp?” repeated the elf, one dark eyebrow twitching. “Boy, don’t make me take you over my knee!”

“I’d like to see you try.”

“Watch me!”

“Um,” muttered Kalya, leaning towards Kwaaku as the two continued on. “Are they always like this?”

The big Tauren shrugged but smiled at the arguing pair that had slowly stared moving down the road towards Everlook.

“Always,” he rumbled in amusement. Kalya took another look at them then and found herself smiling as well as the pair continued playfully arguing. It was probably the liveliest she had ever seen Necronim before, one hand almost constantly in motion to either point at the High Elf or to illustrate something.

“Its nice to see him like…” She trailed off in mid-sentence and gaped at the air, one hand lifting towards her stomach. “Ohhh…”

“Kalya?” murmured Kwaaku, shifting worriedly towards her.

“I don’t…I don’t feel well…”

“Kwaaku!” came Hresden’s concerned cry then as Necronim abruptly slumped over in his saddle with a groan. His eyes fell on Kalya then hardened from terror to determination as he snapped, “Get them down on the ground now! Scyllaine, blankets for them, please!”

The female Forsaken made a trilling noise in response and leapt down, tugging blankets from packs and spreading them out quickly off to the side of the roadway. Kwaaku gently lifted Kalya from her saddle, carrying her easily over to the blankets, then turned back to go after Necronim but Hresden was already on that. The mage had the Forsaken’s arm slung across his shoulders and was half-carrying, half-dragging him over with his teeth bared. With the Tauren’s help as he got close, they lowered the rogue to the pile of blankets next to the young woman.

“He’s heavier than he looks,” mumbled Hresden. He then crouched down next to Kalya and asked, “Where does it hurt?”

“Stomach,” she groaned, hands pressing down on the spot as if it would stop the pain.

“Nec?” demanded the mage, glancing towards the rogue.

Necronim grunted, bony fingers grasping at the blankets underneath him, and growled, “Same. Hres…”

“This is likely the spell you were suspecting,” hissed the mage. “Damn!” He then frowned, the tips of his ears twitching, and leaned over Kalya. “Let me see. Girl…Kalya…please move your hands.”

She complied slowly and Hresden carefully pushed aside the furs to show her tunic underneath. Unbuttoning the bottom two buttons, he pushed it and the shirt underneath it up slightly and let out a hiss of disgust in response.

“Earth Mother save us,” breathed Kwaaku. He stared at the patch of pallid gray flesh across her stomach then glanced towards Necronim with fear in his sole eye. Hresden was already moving around to the rogue, fingers flying at the ties on his vest and tugging it and the tunic underneath up.

Identical to the spot on Kalya’s stomach was a patch of smooth, pale, human skin across Necronim’s. The rogue shifted upright at the gasp from Scyllaine and stared down at the spot, his jaw falling slack at the sight. Then he switched his eyes over to Kalya and came snarling upright, almost sending Hresden crashing backwards into a snow bank.

“No!” he snarled as he clasped a hand over the patch of pallid flesh – his flesh – on her stomach. “No, damnit! NO!”

“Nec,” rumbled Kwaaku, leaning forward.

Necronim whirled on him, shouting, “She doesn’t deserve this, Kwaa! Not this damned existence!”

“We know,” breathed Hresden, laying a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Nec, I’m going to do everything in my power to reverse this…this horror of a spell. I’ll ride to Dalaran itself and demand entry if I have to.” His pale eyes glowed as bright as his sister’s for a moment with power and he growled, “I swear to you on my life that I will find a way to break this!”

“Thank you,” breathed Necronim, his gaze never wavering from Kalya’s face as she looked up at him in fear. Her hand had joined his across her stomach and she could feel the cold flesh there as easily as he could feel the warmth across his own. He leaned forward and hissed, “We’ll find a way to stop this. I promise.”

“I trust you,” she breathed with sudden tears in her eyes as she squeezed his fingers. Then she broke out in a full sob and sat up, flinging her arms around him as she started crying into his chest. He enfolded her willingly in his arms and hugged her tightly, closing his eyes as he leaned his cheek against her hair.

Around him he heard Hresden muttering to himself as Scyllaine and Kwaaku began to settle their mounts and make camp for the night, as they weren’t about to be moving now. But all of Necronim’s focus was on the young woman in his arms who had only felt compassion for a Forsaken and an injured Tauren so many years ago.

A woman who had suffered for her compassion.

A woman who loved him despite everything that told her she shouldn’t.

A woman now suffering because of him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, rocking her gently and not knowing if she heard through her fear and pain. Still he held her and tried to comfort her and whispered it again and again.

“I’m sorry, Kalya.”

“I’m sorry.”