The skies over Terokkar were as captivating as ever tonight, and it was under the night sky, under this gift so grand that only the hands of the Elements themselves could create, that Nexariel sat and meditated. On the ground before her lied a small clay bowl whose contents, herbs of some unknown plant, burned faintly, emitting a gentle smoke that rose upward and would be inhaled by Nexariel's gentle breathing. With each passing moment, more and more of the herb's aroma would penetrate her being, the lush scenery and wildlife still asleep from the previous day fading to nothingness. With each passing moment, her mind's hold on this world would be loosened.
A burst of light would flash behind her eyes, shocking her awake from this trance, but only momentarily, for she would regain herself and let her mind fall once more under the herb's sway. Her heart's beating would become a deep drum in her ears as time went on, and her breathing would become ever fainter to slow its rhythm. As it did, her body would become weaker and more at ease, and it would be with one last, slow exhale...that she would come to a state of perfect tranquility.
A final drum and a flash of light, and all that once was would be gone, and in the distance there stood an edifice so large and so grand, that all other things were hidden by the powerful energies it emitted. White fields as far as she could see, lined with rows upon rows of Draenei, men and women, young and old, standing and staring at the structure, unflinching and in silence. She would traverse down from her mountain and slowly approach the structure, careful to keep her head low in humility so as to not disturb those who stood silent vigil around Auchindoun.
Nearer she came, and at the foot of the structure lied a box whose design and apparent significance had it stand out from where it lied. She brought a hand onto it, and immediately she could feel the heads of the silent, thousands of pairs of eyes, turn their attention away from the structure and gaze into the back of her head, but her other hand would meet the first, and it was with some force that she would hoist the lid open and stare inside. A hand would gently come to rest on her shoulder, and it was before she could see what lied within this box that another flash of light would burst behind her eyes once more, and she would find herself still sitting atop her mountain under the beautiful and captivating Terokkar night sky.
She had sat there on the mountaintop for the rest of the night, staring calmly in the distance toward Auchindown. The sun was rising, and already the wildlife had begun to wake, but she had remained perfectly still and calm, though her shoulder still clung to the deathly chill of the hand that once rested there. A soft breeze glided along the tall grass and Nexi would hear a whisper drifting softly along the winds.
She had felt the slow chill materialize behind her, and she had known what was approaching. The familiar feel atop her shoulder that had awoken her from her trance now stood behind her, and she bowed her head in respect to its presence. It glided toward her, its form a mist that trailed for some inches behind him, and stood facing toward the sacred ground.
"...what is it you would ask of me?" Nexariel spoke softly, but no answer would present itself. She remained seated, however, and lifted her head as she began to feel the cold fade from beside her, replaced by the natural warmth of the Terokkar sun. "You are leaving?" She turned her head to look at where the apparition stood, but its form had already dissipated.
There was little else but miles upon miles of cracked dirt and gray sand, but in the middle stood the crumbling tombs of Auchindoun, and it was there her mind had been wandering toward all these long hours. She was led there with only the faint whisper of the apparition and it was without incident that she reached the tombs and found herself standing in the doorway of a large stone hall lit by braziers of blue flame that caused her shadow to dance eerily on the walls around her. At the base of the hall it broke off into two paths to either side, and the base itself was lit not by flames but by crystal glowing faintly behind years upon years of web. She found herself taking the leftmost path, southeast into the lower floors of these tombs. It grew darker here, and the webs had a much greater presence, but one final base and it would break away in two directions as before, and again she took the leftmost path. To her right was revealed the large hallowed grounds of Auchindoun, and it was with some hesitation that she approached the end of the hall and allowed the sheer size of inner grounds to overtake her.
"...why did you bring me here? What is it you wish of me?" she whispered to any who would be present to hear, though her physical form still sat miles from what she saw, and kept her wits about her, waiting for some sort of indication. A gentle chill crept upward from the base of her spine, and a shiver traveled shortly behind its path, hands clinging to her upper arms in a vain attempt to shield herself from a chill she knew was neither natural nor suppressible, but she would wait for some time in the dead silence of the tombs, waiting for whatever it would be the apparition would present.
The familiar flash of light behind her eyes jolted her, and all the mausoleum stood as it had so many years before, unbroken and untainted by the forces that now settled these ruins. She looked in awe all around her, a sight that never before she had been granted until now. "...why do you show me this?" she whispered, and in the distance the familiar box from before was led on the shoulders of Anchorites, and she broke into a run toward them. She didn't know why she had such a great desire, such a great need, to be near this, but she ran, and she ran, across the center of the Ring. The Anchorites around her appeared oblivious to her presence, but closer still she came to them, heart beating quickened not from the haste of her sprint but from the excitement, the anxiety, that the sight of the object gave her. Two braziers burned violently at either side of a hall stretching ahead of her into a darkened chamber where the Anchorites led the tomb, but several meters from it the scene became gray, and all the world around her faded away and she found herself still sitting atop the small mountain, an arm outstretched toward something no longer there to behold.
Ventus had been at work for most of that day on a new-found hobby of his, jewelcrafting, when Nexariel's hoof steps grew progressively louder the higher the ruins she climbed and it was there she found him, sitting on the floor with his back leaning against one of the many beds, knife in one hand and jewel in the other. He was an Anchorite, so she was lucky to have found him not only awake but also alone, the rest of her companions either asleep or doing whatever tasks outside the ruins necessary for the comfort of the Pilgrimage. "Anchorite Ventus," she called out and bowed her head in respect to him as she had always done, and he in turn did the same, "Sister Nexariel." She took her place beside him, and watched him carve the gem in silence for only a few moments for she noticed that, out of the corners of his eyes, he would often look at her. Though she was roughly six thousand years his senior, she had great respect for this man's wisdom, and his ability to see through her, which his faint smirk quickly revealed that he knew that she was up to something, or at least had something on her mind.
"You may speak, Sister," he said quietly, his eyes not leaving the gem already taking on an elegant form despite his apparent unfamiliarity with the craft, but she tore her gaze away from the gem and looked instead to her lap.
"What do you know of the Auchenai, Brother Ventus?" she asked him in as quiet a voice as he had only moments before, and her eyes slowly looked up toward him, though slightly narrowed as if expecting some form of backlash that would never come.
"And why would you wish to know of the Auchenai?" his voice becoming more stern and suspicious, not unlike a father interrogating his daughter's whereabouts the night before, and it would only be fitting that she would in turn take on the expression such a daughter would take when forced to divulge such information.
"I was not far from Auchindoun when I was granted a vision... I was shown faces... thousands upon thousands of faces of those buried there, and in the distance was a box, a tomb, and I was drawn to it," she held out an arm, hand facing down as if reaching into a box for some object that wasn't there. "Whoever it was that showed me this drew me nearer - "
"You went into the mausoleum?" he interjected, even stopping the slash of his blade against the stone in shock of her revelation, but she lowered her hand back down onto her lap and nodded.
"I did, and upon reaching the Ring I was shown Auchindoun as it was before. So grand and beautiful it once was... and again I was drawn nearer across the Ring... tempted once more by this tomb, and all became as it is now when I reached the end," she whispered to him, for not far from where they sat she heard one of the others stirring in their sleep, and so he leaned closer to her and whispered just the same.
"Why do you want to know so much about the Auchenai, Nexariel?"
She fell silent, listening to where she heard the stirring and peeked over the bed to the bunks on the far side of the room. "It is possible I am wrong," she turned back toward him, "but I believe the reason for this vision lies in them."
"It is possible that everyone is wrong about everything, we just go with what we think we know."
"Then tell me, Brother Ventus, what it is you know of them. You are an Anc -"
" - And so too is Telah," he quirked a brow, his head tilting upward only to look down at her with narrowed eyes. "Your face tells me you keep this from him. Why?"
She looked away. "He is not to know of this. Not yet," she sighed quietly and mustered the courage to look back at him. "He is facing troubles of his own, as you know. What torments him and now what taunts me, both originate at the Auchindoun. I went there last night to find answers for his sake and I was granted this. Whatever it is I must do for him lies within those ruins and with those who once watched over them." She went quiet after that, and the two simply looked at each other in silence. It was some minutes before either spoke, and Ventus had resumed the careful carving of the gem, but his face could not conceal his thinking.
"The Auchenai were a priesthood who tended to the dead of Auchindoun," he began slowly. "But they have fallen into ruin and despair, and insanity." He looked to her. "You would do well to have no dealings with them."
"You say they tended to the dead, but how? From what I know only a Shaman had such a skill."
"The Auchenai have always been secretive, Sister. Their methods and rituals are known to few outside of their priesthood."
She narrowed her eyes and nodded slowly, and Ventus narrowed his eyes at her as well. "You are mad," he whispered sharply, but she was already making to stand.
"Then I will go alone."
"Not long you have spent near Auchindoun, yet already I fear your mind has fallen under the sway of the Void," Ventus said from atop his Elekk, Nexariel leading on from several meters ahead, her ghostly paws leaving no marks upon the cracked dirt and gray soil they walked on, but she could only grin in her mind. Several hours before now they had begun their journey, but only now had they reached the tombs of Auchindoun.
"I will follow on foot in case we are attacked," she had told him while he climbed atop the Elekk not far from the main entrance of Shattrath. She had secured her axes to the strong leather belt across her hips, and they hung there, their weight balanced nicely so that they didn't sway to either side.
"If we will be going on foot...surely I do not need my Elekk?" he had asked her from atop the saddle.
"If we are attacked, you are to flee upon it," she spoke in an oddly casual tone, already leading on hoof along the southern roads and the heavy vibrations of the Elekk following closely behind.
"Nexariel, I can handle myself."
"I am not without my owns means of escape, should things turn out too badly. You, on the other hand, would be forced to flee on hoof, and I would never leave you behind, and so the both of us would be in danger should you leave the Elekk."
"Surely there is some way to take multiple beings through the Astral Realm?"
"If so, I do not know of it, and I doubt I have the strength yet for it. But this is part of why I wish to see Auchindoun..."
"To make yourself stronger?"
"Power and strength are not things I ever cared for. What I seek is knowledge. Remember what I spoke of to you."
"That you started to hear a spirit that came from this place?"
"And of the rituals of the Auchenai. You said yourself that perhaps their secrets remain here."
And so he had followed her, not willing to let the stubborn woman enter the tombs alone for fear of what dangers and vile beings now made these tombs their home, but it was there that they now stood, and Ventus climbed down from his Elekk to stand beside Nexariel as they both peered down the dark, narrow hallway from before. Both stood in silence for some time until Nexariel unhooked her axes and entered the hallway.
"Come, Brother Ventus, there was something here you may be able to explain to me," she whispered to the stone, and took the leftmost path as she did the last time she was here.
"And...that would be?" he whispered in return, eyes narrowed in the dimness of the hall and kept close to her, his mace held firmly and ready.
"An altar, perhaps. I cannot say," she had turned left once more, and to her right was the same entrance to the Ring, and she stood at the doorway, peering out across the grounds. "From this point forward they will be watching us... thousands of pairs of eyes looking down at us unblinking..." She motioned directly across from where they both stood, "It is there that we are going."
There was unease on his face as they walked across the Ring, and Nexariel had kept her eyes narrowed toward the tops of the ruins, for the image of the eyes that stared at her was not one she would so easily forget, but they both came to a halt at the braziers from before, still burning a flame so brightly. "Something tends to these flames in our absence, Nexariel," he whispered, but Nexariel kept her eyes atop the ruins as she backed into the tunnel the braziers marked. The sight of bones, thousands upon thousands, littered the stone grounds of the chamber, and to their right stood the altar, massive stones upon which were etched the symbols of the Auchenai peered down at the from atop the steps.
"I have seen this before, but I am no Anchorite or Auchenai. What do you make of it?" she asked him, the point of her axe motioning toward the altar and he climbed the steps to the stones and knelt there.
"There are documents here."
At a faint sound from behind her, she turned and faced the doorway, eyes narrowed and fingers tightening around the wooden hilt of her axes, but turned her head slightly to her left toward Ventus. "And what do they say?"
"I have not read them yet, but would the spirits of this place take offense if I examined it?" he looked to her, a hand already placed gently atop a tome laying before the stones.
"We may have already offended them the moment our hooves touched the stone," her eyes narrowed further.
"Would you let me read the texts? This altar appears to otherwise be a means to make offerings to the spirits."
"This place was shown to me. There was surely a reason for it and perhaps that is it. Do you believe this text will be of use?"
"Whilst it seems it's written by a outsider, any information the Auchenai is useful. What about these other books and scrolls?"
"Who would leave such things unprotected?" she turned to face the altar, only now noticing the mess of pages and scrolls scattered across it. "It would be wise to return them once we no longer have use of them."
The pair snapped their heads toward the doorway at a rough wind that moved bones and loose pages along the floor of their chamber.
"I fear we have overstayed our welcome."
"Indeed."
The texts remained largely untouched after Ventus and her had taken them, mostly because they gave her nothing of real value. But the fits had stopped, seemingly for good after some months, and a sense of peace and security had befallen the pilgrims. Thus, the pilgrimage continued on into Nagrand and, more specifically, the Oshu'gun.
In her mind, this would work in her favor, for she believed her trainer, Jovar, the Krokul responsible for walking her along the path of the Shaman, had taken refuge in Telaar instead of joining the other Draenei in their flight, believing he and his people had no true place among their untainted kin. He wasn't the only Krokul to believe this, and it was no surprise at all for her and her companions to be so unwelcomed there. But being a Shaman did ease the tensions, for this proved her unprejudiced against them, and a few questions was all it took for her to be pointed in her former master's direction.
She left her companions at the inn there and sought him out. It was a simple hut made of clay where she found him, knelt in front of his stove, cooking, but he had turned to look over his shoulder at the door as Nexariel's hooves struck lightly against the stone, and a crooked smirk formed along his aged features at the sight of her.
"Nexariel," he said quietly as he rose to his feet to greet her, his arms outstretched to embrace her, and she, returning the smile, embraced him. "All these long years... the Exodar... I feared the worst." His embrace became tighter, and so did hers at the memories that quickly returned at the mention of the crash.
It was a good moment before he finally let her go, a deep sigh escaping him, and he motioned to the cushions on the floor. "Come, sit, sit," he chuckled, and was about to turn back to the stove when Nexariel opened her mouth to speak, but he quickly held up a hand to silence her and nodded slowly. "I know," he smiled faintly at her, "but sit and relax." And so she sat in the silence of the small, clay hut, with only the faint crackling of the cooking fire and the sound of metal gently scraping against metal as he cooked.
"You and your companions are being followed by the unseen," he began, turning toward her with thick slabs of roasted Talbuk on a pair of plates and gave one to her, "And now you come for my council." He looked across the room into her eyes and as she began to speak he cut her off, "I know because she is with you, even now," and Nexariel nodded after a moment, too far lost in her thoughts to pay her food much attention. Jovar took notice of this and tilted her head up slowly with a gentle hand beneath her chin. "You and your companions intend to visit the Oshu'gun, correct?"
"We do, my brother. And many other sites of significance as we continue our pilgrimage."
He smiled. "Make good use of your time there, sister. Far more than old memories await you and your companions."
At that, she looked up. "Like what?" she asked, her eyes narrowing and her head tilting slightly, but he only smiled back at her.
"What sort of teacher would I be if I gave you the answers?" he chuckled and Nexariel rose to her hooves.
"Then I should be going," she said, bowing her head in respect, and so too did Jovar rise and give her a similar show of respect.
"Promise me old Jovar will see his old student again after her trip," he said with a smile as Nexariel stood in the doorway, and she smiled over her shoulder at him.
"Of course, my brother," she said, and left in the direction of the inn, and the smile on his face quickly faded as he watched her leave.
"...far more than old memories, indeed."