All that we See or Seem

[Sadron]

I

A top a spire, on a plateau above the woods of Eversong, I sat on the cold, stone floor of the room that had become my cell. My wrists were bound in chains, though they were long enough to allow me to move about the room I was confined in. I didn't. Since I was brought there I had just stayed in the center of the room. I was at the top of a spire, so I could see out into the woods I longed to be in. I blankly stared ahead of me, trying to understand why I was there.

My warden. My keeper. My captor. My enemy, Asphodim, sauntered up to the top of the spire, and then over a little bridge, into where I was being kept. His steps were cool, and controlled, and as he approached me, I saw that he was wiping his hands with a cloth. As I examined the cloth, I saw that it had a dark red liquid on it. “Oh, sisters... they can be such a chore to deal with. Particularly younger sisters. Wouldn't you agree, Thalion?” He said.

I looked from the rag to his face. Pale white skin, framed by pale gold hair. He wore a white suit with brown pants and gray shoes, all of excellent make and all tailored perfectly. If I didn't already know, I would be able to tell he was a Seregon. After running over his words in my head my gaze jumped back to the fabric. I focused on the red liquid of the fabric and my heart rate sped up. I tried to keep my cool as I replied, "I don't"

“Truly? Because I just spent a lovely time with your youngest, and I must say it was quite some effort on my behalf.” He said as he inspected his nails and picked at a spot of dried blood.

I took a deep, slow breath and continued staring at the cloth. It couldn't have been true. It wasn't. "I don't believe you." I replied in a cold, matter-of-fact tone.

"Funny, she said the same thing when I told her of the fun you and I were having. Such a doll, it almost hurt me to see her cry." He continued picking at the dried blood under his nails, and paused before adding, "Almost."

I was silent after that. I knew he was trying to goad me. He wanted to get under my skin, but I wouldn't let him. He walked past me and dropped the bloody rag onto my lap. I picked it up and inspected it closely. It looked like blood. It smelled like blood. But... was it Xanthe's blood? I wasn't sure. "If it was Xanthe, you're an idiot, and if it wasn't, you're a manipulative idiot." I licked my upper lip as I finished examining the rag, and then gently set it on the floor next to me.

Asphodim's voice echoed from behind me, "If it was Xanthe?" He paused, probably to sip his wine. I wasn't looking at him, so I didn't know. "How would that make me an idiot? I'm curious."

"The wrath of my father is not something you want to bring upon yourself." I said. I was trying to lead him on. Logically, he should have been afraid of a Death Knight's anger. They are hungering, sleepless, loveless killing machines after all. He wasn't.

"Your father is an egotistical fool." He said. His voice, as always, was controlled, but you could feel the bite and distaste in it.

I needed a new strategy, fear wasn't going to work. If I could insult him... make him angry... I thought he would make a mistake. "As opposed to you?" I said.

"I didn't lock away my youngest child for most of her life. I didn't abandon my heir-apparent in lieu of my youngest son." He paused again, before continuing, "Your father doesn't care for you."

Of course, he was right. My father couldn't care for me anymore. However, that wasn't his fault. I didn't hate my father for being a Death Knight, I hated that he was a Death Knight. I paused to think, before I said, "My father is dead. What remains of him is what you should fear."

He disregarded my statement, "Tell me, Thalion, what is it you fear?"

It was a good question, but it wasn't something I wanted to discuss. "Like I would give you the satisfaction of knowing." I retorted.

"I could find out, but I'd much rather have a discussion."

I was making a point of controlling my breathing as a way to control myself. Never had I ever hated a man with this much passion. The sound of his voice alone was enough to fill me with a painful fury. "Myself." I said.

"Do go on." Asphodim demanded. The sick sound of his aristocratic voice felt like it corrupted my ears.

I felt bold, and my voice was harsh when I spoke, "No."

Asphodim's voice took on a similar harshness, "It wasn't a request."

I turned to look at him. He was sitting on a fancy chair, sipping his fancy wine. It took everything I had to not jump up and put my hands around his throat. I was prepared to remain defiant, but I relented, "I fear my own flaws."

I was close enough to his chair that I was within range of his foot, which he placed on my shoulder. As I continued looking at him, he nudged my cheek with his toe and frowned, "Of which you have so many."

Again, I kept quiet. He removed his boot from my shoulder and leaned forward. He grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and yanked me to my feet. Still holding my shirt, he forced his wine glass to my lips and said, "Drink." Hesitantly, I obeyed. I truly did not enjoy the taste of wine anymore, probably because drugged wine was how I ended up Asphodim's prisoner. "Good boy..." He said as he released my collar. He looked over my outfit and frowned, "These clothes are dirty and unseemly. You will change before we go out."

I blinked a few times before stammering, "Go... out?" Asphodim nodded. "...Fine." I grunted.

He threw a pile of clothes at me, a shirt, pants, socks -- everything. I changed into them and he appraised how I looked. "...Not bad." Asphodim then came close to me -- uncomfortably close -- and whispered in my ear, "I dont have to warn you against running... do I?"

I figured if I ran, he would kill me, so I replied, "No. You don't."

He smiled, and let me out of my binds, and dragged me to a party in Eversong. It wasn't difficult to tell I was unhappy. I would only smile briefly, and it was obviously forced. My glass of wine stayed full for the duration of the party. I was focused on the woods around me. The freedom that I lacked. After publicly humiliating me for a couple of hours, he dragged me back to the spire. Back to my cage.

As we entered my room, actually, it was more like a courtyard, he led me by the hand and then tugged, throwing me into the center of the room. "When I tell you to drink your wine, you wil drink your wine. When I tell you to smile, you will smile. If I ask you to bow at my feet and kiss my shoes, well..." He smiled mirthlessly at me, "I think you understand."

I stood, silent, and glared at him, "Is it understood?" He asked.

"...Yes."

A sick, twisted smile spread on his face, "Wonderful." He then passed me and sat in a chair. He poured himself another glass of wine and said to me, "Come. Sit."

Slowly, I walked and sat in a chair next to him. He looked at me with what seemed to be amusement. Like a pet or a child had done something silly. "No, no..." He sipped his wine and then pointed down at the stone floor in front of him before repeating, "Come. Sit."

I sighed through my teeth as I obeyed. I didn't have a choice. Or... did I? I began to wonder. "There's a delicious rumor I heard at the party tonight that you're courting a woman..."

I closed my eyes and balled my hands into fists. My teeth clenched together and I shakily said, "...Oh?"

"I did, it was the damnedest thing..." He trailed off, and then continued, "What was her name? Tedium... Teria?" I stayed silent, and then I felt his gaze boring into the back of my head, "What was her name?" He paused between every word, as if trying to drill the command into my brain.

"Tedia." I muttered.

"Tedia. Yes. Yes, of course." He trailed off again, and then I felt the back of my shirt tear open. He grabbed the back of my neck, pushed me down and held me there. I looked over my shoulder and saw a calm. casual expression on his face.

Then he started carving into my back. I whimpered and nearly wailed in pain and fear as the sharp butterknife he used cut through my flesh. I would later find out that he carved the phrase, I am not a person into my back.

Asphodim's voice almost sounded lazy. "People get to sit in chairs and at tables. People get to court beautiful women. You are not a person." He finished carving, and then leaned closer to my ear and whispered, "Are you a person, Thalion?"

I tried to say yes. I tried to defy him, but I couldn't. I wanted to scream, wail, cry, roar, and kill Asphodim all at the same time. My desperate attempt at defiance came out as nothing more than a weak, breathy moan.

He slapped the flat side of the knife against my back. Against the fresh wounds. I twitched and my breathing quickened. "What was that?"

Eyes wide with fear, I turned my head to look at Asphodim. The lack of any emotion on his face terrified me further. "Ye-..." I began, but I cut myself off as I stared into his empty visage. I swallowed what saliva remained in my mouth and said, "...No."

Asphodim leaned back in his chair, his voice carrying a content tone, "I'm glad we have an understanding. The upholstery of these chairs is very costly, I'd hate for a pet to ruin them."

I stayed quiet. It felt like I had been defeated. For the past few days I had endured having my foxtail crudely cut off, and my emotions twisted and tortured by Asphodim. It had been a battle of the wills, and I had lost.

"Tell me about her." Asphodim demanded.

"She's nice." I barked, no longer tolerant of Asphodim's torture. I wanted to explode. I wanted it to stop.

He puts his boot on the fresh wounds on my back and twisted it. The pain shot through every muscle in my body. I nearly bit through my lower lip as I tried to ignore the bleeding. "She's beautiful, kind, caring, and I love her. What else do you want to know?" I barked.

Behind me, Asphodim was frowning. I could feel it, "How did you meet, what does she look like, what does your family think about her." He said. His boot was still on my back, as a reminder of what happened when I disobeyed.

I shivered as I spoke, and my voice was just as shaky, "I met her in the Scryers tier when I was on a hunt for information. She is thin, average height and has dark hair. My family likes her."

"How nice. I should very much like to pay my respects to her, then, she sounds like an exquisite creature."

I turned and looked at Asphodim, the hatred I felt for the pathetic excuse for a person with pure hatred. "Don-" I started, but the sensation of Asphodim's boot pushing against my wounds shook my resolve.

"Yes?" Asphodim asked.

"Don't."

"Oh?" He twisted his heel against the cuts again.

I cried out in pain and hugged my chest with my arms. I was leaning foreword because of his boot, but I was still glaring at him from the corner of my eye, "Don't." I repeated.

"I think I will." He said. He knew I was powerless to stop him, but that wouldn't stop me from denying it. I had to stand against him. I just had to.

"No." I said.

Asphodim's voice did not raise -- it never did. But his intonation suggested that he was absolutely appalled by my defiance, "Who do you think you are telling me 'no'?"

I took a deep breath, and I calmed myself down. My voice was filled with a newfound certainty as I looked at my enemy again and said, "...A person."

Asphodim set his foot on the floor. He stared at me coldly and set his wine down on the table, "Oh? Is that so?" His voice again lowered to a whisper, "Say it again."

My head was still turned to glare at him from the corner of my eye, "I am a person."

His lips curled into a sneer and he lifted his nose as he looked down at me, "That's what I thought you said." His voice took on a much darker tone. I didn't have time to analyze why. Asphodim suddenly and swiftly delivered a strong kick to my chin. I fell on my side and held my jaw. I had almost bit my tongue as his boot connected with my chin. He fluidly rose from his chair and walked around so he was in front of me. His boot then savagely planted itself in my gut. "Say it."

The kick caught me by surprise, and after coughing, wheezing and holding my gut for a while, I looked up at him and again said, "I am a person."

Asphodim kicked me several more times, and then rolled me onto my back with his boot. As I groaned in pain, he rested it on my throat, "Say it."

My eyes flickered with fear as the boot made its way onto my throat, and I saw Asphodim smile at that. I mastered my fear and grinned, saying, ""I am a free person."

He pressed his foot down on my throat -- but only a little. Breathing became a little more difficult, but I could still do it. His voice was low, but not quite a whisper. "You are not a person. You are nothing." The disgust he felt for me poured out of his mouth along with the poisonous words he spewed.

My grin had faded, and my voice was strained, but my resolve to defy Asphodim was still strong, "I am a person. You can torture me, Asphodim. You can beat me, break me and kill me, but you will never change that."

Asphodim removed his foot and took a few steps back, his lips curling up into a devilish smile, "I can beat you. I will break you. I may kill you. But that isn't the goal here... is it?"

He turned and started to walk away. He stopped and glanced back at me as he said, "I'll enjoy my next 'conversation' with your dear sweet sister, and I'm certain calling upon Tedia will prove for a most enchanting evening." He started to walk again.

I pushed myself to my feet. My gut still hurt from the beating it had received, so I held it with my hand. "Asphodim." I said. He stopped and turned to look at me, and I continued, "If you hurt them, I will kill you." It was a desperate attempt to seem strong. To show him he hadn't won. It didn't work.

He looked over me, his eyes filled with amusement, "I do love your spirit, Thalion. Truly. Even in the face of your own bleak fate you think you have control." His tone was condescending, as if I was a child.

I spoke through my teeth, "I'm not powerless. I am not weak."

He took a few steps back in my direction, "No, no, you see... you are. You are weak. It's why you abandoned your family. It's why you expect someone else to protect your idiot sister. And it's why 'Tedia' will leave you." His voice stung more than the wounds or bruises he had given me. As much as I hated him, as much as I hated every sound and breath that came out of his mouth... I was starting to believe him.

My resolve was beginning to shake again, "Y-you're wrong."

He held onto his twisted smile, "I'm not."

I took a deep breath, and my voice raised to a yell. The desperate sound of my voice echoed around the spire. "You are."

"No, puppet, I'm not." He said, and then he turned and left. Despite me calling his name, shouting angrily and wildly at him, he left. He had the last laugh.

I took a deep breath and retreated into my cell. I sat on one of the chairs and let the blood from my back drip and smear on the cushion. I knew I would be beaten for it, but I didn't care.

I made myself a promise. For Xanthe, for Tedia, for anybody that Asphodim would hurt because of me... for them, I would endure.

[Sadron]

II

After that I was left on my own for several days. Asphodim didn't come back. I was left to my own silence, and in my own company I would sit and meditate. Calmness. Silence. Strength. These were all things I would contemplate, as if I was still with Xanthe.

Asphodim eventually returned. He entered the room and sat down. I was, as usual, sitting on the stone floor. My legs were crossed and my hands were folded in my lap. My eyes were shut, and I was in thought. "What are you doing?" He asked.

"Nothing." I replied.

Asphodim echoed, "Nothing?"

"Sitting. Breathing."

Asphodim's voice suddenly lit up with delight, "Oh, Thalion, I almost forgot. I have a present for you. Well, two presents, really."

I scoffed, "That's nice." I really wasn't in the mood for Asphodim's games. I had come to the conclusion that everything Asphodim said was a lie. His words were poison. I also vowed that I wouldn't let him affect me. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of a reaction. I would not break.

I heard shuffling across the room. Footsteps approached me, and as Asphodim stood in front of me I opened my eyes and regarded him with mild disinterest. He held out a small bundle of cloth. I took it in my hands and eyed it suspiciously, "It is nice." He said with a smile.

"What is it?" I said and looked up at Asphodim again.

He flicked my forehead and replied, "If I told you it would not be a surprise."

I slowly unraveled the cloth, layer by layer. My eyes widened with fear and my lips curled with disgust as I saw the contents. I was looking at a pair of eyes. Their fel-green glow had dimmed, but was still present.

Asphodim spoke just above a whisper, "I was feeling rather badly that I could not bring her to you so, rather, I decided to let her see you this way." He paused, before going on to say, "I am nothing if not a generous man."

I stared at the eyes and looked for a sign that they weren't Xanthe's. I couldn't find one. They could have belonged to anybody. For my own sake, I had to assume they were some other poor soul's, "These aren't hers." I declared.

Asphodim smirked to himself, "Saying it does not make it true, Thalion."

"They are not hers." I repeated.

Asphodim spoke with certainty, "They are. took me two days to find her. A nuisance, that one."

I wrapped up the eyes again and gently let them sit on my thigh. I glanced to them again. Maybe I was in denial, maybe I was bluffing. But the more I denied that they were Xanthe's the surer I became of it. "You're lying. These aren't hers."

Asphodim said, "You're my guest, Thalion, and I would never give you a gift that wasn't anything but the best. Are they insufficient? Must I go bring you Tedia's as well?" He smirked and waggled his finger, "Greedy boy."

"You are a coward and a liar, these are not Xanthe's eyes." I said with a sense of finality in my voice.

"I am not, Thalion, though I am amused that you think so." Asphodim said. He always had a reply, and he was always so sure of himself. It was infuriating. He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture, "Genuine article."

I shook my head, "Why are you lying to me?"

Asphodim lifted his hand and gently pressed his fingertips over his heart, "Thalion, you wound me. I have done nothing but tell you the truth since I saw you at the party."

I sighed and continued, "Why am I even here?"

He lowered his hand to his knee again, and a bite crept into his voice, "You know exactly why you're here."

"I do, but I don't understand what your part is. Why does it fall on you to take revenge on me?" I asked.

"For all intents and purposes it is my job, my duty. No..." He paused, "I volunteered for this."

I furrowed my brows, "Why?"

His lips twisted up into a sick half-smile, "You crave redemption, Thalion. You need it," He ran his finger along one of the grooves in the small table next to him, "and I am here to give it to you. So you see, Thalion, I am actually your only friend. I am the only one who is here to grant you mercy. You should be thanking me."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Redemption? I didn't need to be redeemed. I had already been redeemed. I died for my brother, I died for somebody other than myself. Was that not enough? I blinked and said, "This isn't redemption, this is torture."

He lifted his nose and looked down at me, "Torture? Did you think redemption would be handed to you? Did you think it would be flowers and sweet water? It is a trial by fire for a reason."

I shook my head and rejected his twisted spew, "I already redeemed myself. I don't need any of your twisted methods."

Asphodim's voice took on an authoritative tone, "You are redeemed when I say you are redeemed."

"You have no right to pass judgment on me." I said.

"Thalion, Thalion, Thalion..." He smiled to himself and trailed off, "We had made such good progress over the past few days...and then I leave to get your present and now this?"

I shook my head again and repeated myself, "You have no right."

Asphodim leaned closer and spoke softly, "I have every right."

I looked down at the floor in front of me, "You have no right." My voice took on a harsh, dark tone "You are trash."

Asphodim stood up and walked over to me. He stood just behind me, took a square piece of paper out of his jacket and let it flutter down to my lap. I tried to avoid looking at it. I didn't want to know what trick he was playing. "Trash?" He said, "You're the one harming your family. You're the one tethered like a beast. You're the one branded like a common animal."

I passively said, "Then we are the same." I picked up the paper and stared at it in a brief moment of fear. It was a missing person's ad for Tedia. My gaze darted over my shoulder at Asphodim, and my first reaction was denial, "You made this." I said quickly.

"I didn't." He said. Another slip of paper fell to my lap, a mundane piece that looked like it had been torn from a journal, "That's my writing." He pointed at the ad in my hands, "That came from Silvermoon itself."

I crumpled up the missing person's ad and spoke through my teeth, "Tedia isn't missing. Xanthe isn't hurt." I tried to sound sure of myself, I really did, but I wasn't, and it showed.

Asphodim countered my pathetic denial, "Tedia is missing. Xanthe is blind. Xanthe is, shall we be frank, very hurt." I huffed a sigh and stood up, and Asphodim lifted his foot and swiftly kicked the back of my knees, "Did I say you could stand?"

I fell to my knees, but I pushed myself up again, "I don't need your permission."

He smiled, and his voice again took on the soft, soothing tone that made me feel like a small child, or a pet, "That's the delicious part of this whole affair, Thalion. You do."

"I don't." I barked and turned around to stare Asphodim in his pale face.

"Your bravado is starting to wear at my patience." He hissed. I was about to reply when his fist shot up and struck me in the chin. I stumbled back, grunting and holding my jaw in pain. I glared at Asphodim and I smiled under my hand. Finally, I was going to get some satisfaction. Or... so I thought.

He stepped foreword as I stumbled back and his fist arced at me again. It struck the right side of my face, and I stumbled to the left. "Tedia will die." He feigned as if to launch another brutal strike at my face, but instead his other fist shot for my gut. I doubled over in pain and groaned as he spoke, "Xanthe? I am having too much fun to let her die. I think I'll keep her." He started laughing.

I didn't want to hear it anymore. I couldn't. Every word he said made me feel like I wanted to explode, and I did. I roared and lunged forth in an attempt to tackle him to the ground. In my mind, I envisioned myself pinning him down and striking his face again and again. I wanted him to suffer. It didn't work out like that. Asphodim lunged at me and we found ourselves in a grapple.

"How will you face her after what I have done to her?" He grunted, "How will you find the words to apologize?"

I pushed with all my strength, and I growled in response, "I won't. I didn't do it to her."

Asphodim hissed into my ear, "She would not be in this were it not for you." He planted his feet firmly on the stone floor and tightly gripped my arms. He then used my own pushing against me and flung me towards the bench on the far side of the room.

It hurt. My back struck the corner of the bench, and it ached. I clenched my teeth and steadily rose back to my feet, then assumed a ready position. I wasn't done. I wanted him to attack me again. I dared him with my gaze.

He straightened out his suit in even, firm tugs, "Good talk." He said.

I let my fists fall to my sides in disappointment. As always, Asphodim had the last word. He turned and started to leave, before he stopped and said, "Oh and Thalion?"

"What?" I said rather flatly.

He waved his hand to one of the small tables and a tray of food and drink appeared, "Do eat something. If you don't eat, you'll die and I am not giving you permission to die yet."

I again grumbled, "I don't need your permission."

"You do." He retorted, "If you die I will simply have to purchase your life back and -then- where would you be?" There was a moment of silence, and then he said, "Right back to where we started. A delightful proposition for -me- so... either way... I win. Good night."

Asphodim left. I went over to the table and begrudgingly ate. I was hungry. Looking back, I wonder if there was something in the food. There must have been, because my nightmare that night would haunt me for the rest of my life.

[Sadron]

III

Lost. That was how I felt. I found myself in a great hall overlooking a lake. There were great windows on every wall, and a thick fog was in the air. The walls were a soft blue color, and the trim around the windows and doors was a soft violet. I looked over myself and saw that I was in my old leather armor. Red and black padding. My mask was around my neck, and I instinctively pulled the comforting black fabric around my face. My sword was at my belt, and I had a bow and quiver slung over my shoulder. Despite all my equipment, I didn't feel heavy.

I looked up and saw Xanthe standing at the far end of the hall. It was in the shape of a T, with two wide halls on either side of me, and the larger part of the building pointing out towards the lake. Xanthe was wearing an interesting dress, with long sleeves that fell and brushed against the floor as she shifted her weight. The sleeves had slits in them for her hands. Around her, there was the metallic chiming of bells.

I approached her, and gradually, the lake became clearer. It almost seemed to glow like moonlight. The whole building glowed like moonlight, from the walls to the fog. "...Xanthe?" I spoke up. My voice echoed around the empty hall.

Her name echoed from the shadows and lanterns around the room, but the echo was not my voice. She turned and I again heard the soft chiming of bells. She smiled warmly at me, "Thalion, you found me." She said. Her voice was just as soft as her smile.

"I... I did?" I stammered. At the time, I truly did not know where I was or how I got there.

Her voice was very matter-of-fact, as it always was, "You are here, so yes."

I looked out at the lake, then again surveyed the hall, "But where is... here?" I asked.

My gaze drifted back to Xanthe, who gracefully extended her hand. As she turned it over, I saw a tea set on the ground between us. It seemed familiar, like the set that she had showed be some months before. "Shall we have tea?"

I nodded, "I would love tea." I said. The calming, comfort of tea seemed very appealing, but I couldn't quite remember why. My ears twitched as the word tea seemed to echo around the room again. The same chorus of whispers.

We sat down. Xanthe took a hold of her sleeve, and effortlessly poured us both a hot cup of tea. Then she did something I didn't quite understand. She turned my cup counter-clockwise three times before sliding it towards me. She set her own cup down, and then picked it up and moved it to her right, before finally placing it in front of her. "Where have you been?" She said. The whispers bounced around the room. It seemed like half of them murmured 'where' and the other half echoed 'been'.

I couldn't quite remember. "I..." I started saying, but the memory was gone. "...Away." I said. The voices echoed me with varying levels of sadness.

"Away.".

Xanthe frowned, "But I've been waiting. We were going to meet here." She said.

I bowed my head, "I... I'm sorry."

Xanthe nodded, "Yes. Okay." She turned to the left to retrieve a plate of treats. I stared in horror as she turned back to me. There was no familiar fel-green glow in her eyes. The sockets were empty, with only two black voids and two identical lines of blood streaking down her cheeks. "Are you hungry?"

I dropped my tea cup in my lap, and the hot liquid spilled. I didn't burn myself though. I kept staring at Xanthe's eyeless eyes. My breathing picked up and my hands trembled furiously.

Xanthe sipped her tea, "You've spilled." She said with sadness in her voice.

My throat and mouth were dry. I shakily opened my mouth and stammered, "Y-your eyes..."

Xanthe's ears drooped. Her eyebrows knitted in distress and her blind stare shifted, as if she was looking past me. The lighting of the room trembled, as if it were afraid, and the whispering shadows murmured amongst themselves.

"He's coming." "He's coming." "Hide." "He's coming."

Xanthe said, "Thalion, I am so sorry."

I cleared my throat, "S-sorry?"

"You can't be here."

I picked up my cup and shakily set it on the smalltable in front of us. "W-why?" I said.

Xanthe yelled at me, "Get out!" The voices whispered after her.

"Too late." "He's here." "Too late." "Run."

With haste, I got to my feet. With fear in my voice, I said, "I'm lost." I frantically looked around for the source of the whispers.

I looked back to Xanthe, who was almost in tears. She clutched her empty teacup in her hands and murmured to herself, "I'm sorry."

A voice echoed from behind me, "Beautiful, isn't she?"

My muscles froze. I couldn't move. I was filled with an unknown terror, but the voice brought with it a name in my mind. Asphodim. I looked at Xanthe, she too was frozen in terror. The voices echoed around me.

"Beau...ti...ful." "Sorry." "Beautiful." "Sor-ry."

"No, no. Don't leave on -my- account..." Asphodim said as he walked behind Xanthe. He murmured, "Tea? I love tea."

I almost forgot that I had my weapon. I drew my sword and pointed it at Asphodim. The blade trembled along with my arm, "N-no. Get... get out." I said.

Asphodim placed his hands on Xanthe's shoulders and she yelped as if she had been electrified. A few tears ran down her face, mixing with the blood. "Oh, Thalion, manners. You can't tell me what to do in my own home." The voices echoed him.

"Home." "Home." "Man-ners." "Me." "Home."

"I... I can." I muttered.

Asphodim smiled, "No. You can't."

I tightened my grip on the sword and spoke through my teeth, "Get out." Asphodim's presence enough was terrifying me, and I didn't quite know why. My resolve was crumbling when I needed it most. Asphodim tenderly ran the back of his hand against Xanthe's cheek, and the chorus of whispers echoed again.

"Out." "Out." "Get. Out." "Get."


Asphodim spoke with his usual sickening certainty. "No, I am rather -fond- of our little Xanthe here. How -ever- could I leave?" Xanthe trembled at the sound of his voice.

I took a quick breath, "Because I will make you."

Asphodim pressed his lips lightly against Xanthe's ear and smirked at me, "With what, Thalion? You're unarmed."

I looked at my hand, which was now empty. My sword was gone. I stuttered to myself as I tried to grasp what was happening. I felt pathetic. Worthless. Aphodim was in complete control, and I was powerless to stop him. I was weak. The voices echoed him.

"Unarmed." "Un." "Un...armed."

Asphodim hissed, "Silence, you insufferable things." The voices shrieked in muted tones of fear and the whole world shimmered and shook in alarm.

I looked at Asphodim, and almost sounded like I was begging him. "Don't... don't... don't touch her."

"I'm touching her." He replied.

"Don't."

Asphodim dismissively waved his hand and the weight of my body suddenly increased. I was too heavy to support myself, and I was dragged onto my knees. It was like my body was filled with wet sand. I looked up and saw Asphodim running his hand over Xanthe's hair. She whimpered. The sound filled me with a mixture of anguish and hatred. I struggled to get to my feet, but it was in vain, "Your blatant disobedience exhausts me, Thalion. Simply exhausts me. Why can't you be good like your sister?" He said.

I looked up at Xanthe's fearful face and half-whispered, "Be... because... I can't."

"Can't what?"

My mouth tasted of defeat, and my words sounded of it, "...Can't let her get hurt."

Xanthe mouthed, "Run."


"It's too late for that, Thalion..." Asphodim murmured. He trailed off and clasped his hand around Xanthe's throat. He quickly yanked her up from her cushon.

Xanthe yelped and clutched at Asphodim's hands, "Thalion -- run!" She cried out.

I kept trying to get up, but it felt like the weight of the world was on my shoulders. I couldn't do it. I wasn't strong enough. I was breaking. "Yes, Thalion, run. Run and abandon your family again when they need you." Asphodim said. He drew a finger across Xanthe's cheek. As if the finger was a knife, a trail of blood appeared. The murmurs erupted in muted tones of anguish and fear, but Asphodim silenced them with a cold, unforgiving look.

Xanthe spoke up "I will die for you, Thalion. I was always going to die for you. Please, please run. You are strong eno---" Asphodim tightened his hand around her throat and cut her off.

"Hush, my dear, you'll ruin everything." He whispered. "Look how far we've come, we can't have you ruining our progress." Xanthe yanked his hands from her throat and sunk her teeth into the soft flesh of his wrist. Asphodim didn't flinch. He batted an eye and pursed his lips, "...And we were going to have such a time together, Xanthe, but you've cut. it. short." He reached foreword and pressed his index finger against Xanthe's chest. Her eyeless sockets widened in pain and blood oozed out like his finger was a knife. He tossed her body towards me like it was nothing more than a rag.

The weight had lifted from me, I was able to move freely again. I looked up at where Asphodim was, but he had disappeared. I looked down at my whimpering sister, who lay in front of me.

"Short." "Cut." "Time." "Short." "You."

I picked up Xanthe and held her body in my arms. I reached up and tugged my mask down, revealing the pained expression on my face. Tears fell from my eyes and onto Xanthe's robe.

Xanthe weakly raised her hand and pressed her finger against my lips. "Shh." She murmured, "Stop."

"She's going." "Going?" "Leaving." "She's leaving."

"A star extinguishes." "A flower fades." "A river dries."

I held Xanthe tightly and sobbed, "Don't leave. P-please."

She murmured, "There is peace in obedience."

"Don't leave." "Please." "Please." "Leave."

The warmth of sunset reached around us. The glowing orange light rippled like a curtain in a breeze. Everywhere I looked, out of every window, there was the same image of the sun setting. Xanthe whispered, "Tell... What does it... Describe it to me."

I looked up at the sun and spoke as softly as I could, "The sun is..." I took a deep breath and held back a sob, "Setting over the water. It's a... a beautiful shade of gold."

"He's winning." "He's won."

I looked around at the voices and spoke up, "No. No he hasn't." I looked down at Xanthe and whispered, "He hasn't won."

Xanthe's voice was getting more and more quiet each time she spoke, "I'm setting."

I matched her volume, "You're not. Y-you can't." I couldn't believe what was happening. It was all so alien. So sudden. So terrible.

Xanthe suddenly looked afraid, "He's not going to let me go." She coughed and her body convulsed slightly, "He's going to bring me back." She whispered, and the voices echoed her.

"Back." "Back." "Back."

I remembered a promise that I had made to Xanthe some time ago. She made me promise to never resurrect her should she die, and I agreed. It wasn't something I wanted her to experience. Resurrection is worse than death, it is a denial of peace. Of nature. I looked at Xanthe, and I felt pain. Loss. It coursed through my body and clawed at my muscles. "I won't, Xanthe. B-but... I can't..." I stammered. I didn't know what to think, or what to do. Xanthe went silent and still in my arms. She blankly stared up at the ceiling. I rested my head on her shoulder and trembled.

"He's won."

I looked up at around at the voices and said, "No, he hasn't." The voices shrieked in unison in response.

"He has won."

I winced. The voices were like a screeching howl in my ears. The echo of their cries lingered in my head. I hesitantly touched the side of Xanthe's sleeping face and whispered, "...He has won." I gently set Xanthe's corpse on the ground and stood up. I wiped the tears from my face and looked at the sunset.

The voices shrieked behind me. I froze with terror and continued staring at the sunset. Gradually, the sun, the glowing sky, everything darkened. I blinked and a swirling, rippling shadow loomed before me. The voices shrieked from within it. It lifted a gnarled hand and placed it against my chest. The world grew darker. Colder. I grew colder. The jolt of cold passed through me and soon all feeling disappeared. The world began to swirl and fade into blackness, and I heard a voice.

"Now you are like me."

[Sadron]

IV

Darkness took hold of me. I lay immaterial, weightless in a sea of nothing, under the warm blanket of night. If not for the fear that gripped me, I would have thought I was dead. I wished I was dead. Gradually, consciousness came back to me. I became aware of the unforgiving stone floor beneath me, and the empty sound of a lonely wind blowing past my prison. I feared to open my eyes, feared that if I opened them that the reality of my cell would become the only one I knew.

Eventually, I found the strength to open my eyes to the morning light. I winced, as if I was leaving a dark cave for the first time. The light would have been beautiful in any other place, but on that spire it seemed pale, grey, weakened in some way by the shadow of Asphodim’s torment. Not even the beauty of the sun could attenuate my loss. In dreams I had reached the height of my struggle against Asphodim, and I failed.

My gaze, harrowed and bereft of feeling, drifted to the floor in front of me, and there I stared. I watched the light of morning fade into the day, which was equally melancholic, and then that light faded into evening. I heard the faint echo of footsteps, but I did not react. I knew it was Asphodim, and a terror filled me. I became aware of my inescapable fate, and I felt the scars on my back—I am not a person—burning like truth. I kept my gaze focused on the stone in front of me and waited, as a trapped animal waits for the hunter.

The footsteps came closer, each one sounding like a tremble in the stone, until the crepuscular light in front of me was marred by Asphodim’s shadow. He observed me for a moment, and I slowly looked up at him. He smiled pitifully at me and sat on the bench behind me. “I just had a lovely visit with Tedia.” He said cheerfully.

A pang struck through me. First Xanthe, now Tedia. Asphodim was like a sickness, poisoning everyone and everything I loved. I understood that there was nothing I could do, and I submitted to my own weakness. I began to feel that my suffering was somehow justified, that I deserved it for some transgression. Unable to find the courage to speak, I grunted in response.

Asphodim continued, “She was simply charming. A little shy and hesitant at first, but well… it didn’t take her long to forget about you…” I continued to stare at the ground before me and absorb Asphosim’s vile spew. But I was silent and strangely relaxed. I wasn’t a person. I deserved this. A twisted part of me accepted that this was reality. After a pause, he carried on, “…Well, until the pain started.”

I wanted to speak, to deny all of his lies, but the words wouldn't form. I was a broken blade, unable of fighting off the siege of my spirit. All I could manage was a whispered sigh.

There was another pause, then Asphodim lowered the tone of his voice and said, “It was a shame, she had such graceful hands.“

I tried to recall the image of Tedia’s hands, but they were distant. Everything beyond the spire was distant and lost like a ship in a brume. I held onto my silence as if it comforted me.

Asphodim stood up and walked in a circle around me. He observed me carefully, and ended up behind me again. He nudged his boot against my back like he would a corpse. I winced at the touch of his boot, and I could almost feel my scars screaming at his touch. He removed his foot and stood in front of me once more. I looked up at him fearfully, “Well?” The one word resonated through me like a demand.

At last, I found the strength to speak, “Y-yes?” I stammered.

Asphodim looked down on me, his eyes filled with judgement and victory, “…Dismissed.”

I batted my eyes in confusion, “What?”

“Dismissed.” I went blank, my mouth was open and I wanted to know what he meant, but no sound came to me. Asphodim released me from my shackles and replied to my dumbfounded expression, "Go.”

Out? The idea was alien to me. Asphodim walked back and sat on the bench while I struggled to get to my feet. Once I had my balance I turned to look at him, “You’re just… letting me go?”

Asphodim answered decisively, “No. You are dismissed“ I waited again, staring at him. “Go. Before I change my mind.”

I took a hesitant step, then, with all the celerity I could muster, ran across the small bridge and down the ramp of the spire. Before I knew it I was in the doorway to the spire, looking outside at grass and trees and freedom. But I wasn’t free. Asphodim had broken my will and was finished with me, but as soon as I regained my strength he would find and reclaim me. With the understanding that I would never escape or be truly free forming in the recesses of my mind, I fled into the blackness of the night.

[Sadron]

V

I dredged up the remainders of my resolve and my strength and forced it into my legs as I fled. I was deeply aware that resistance was futile, that independence was naught but a feeble and distant impossibility. Asphodim had made me his property, and my flight denied the power over me that he arrogated. Still, my feet carried me in my vague need for distance.

I fled from the spire and came upon a thicket of old trees. Their roots and lower branches bore a weary caducity that betrayed the lush colour of their leaves. But their trunks were strengthened by their age. They stood tall and proud, like ancient wardens placed to hinder my escape. Every sound I made seemed to echo off of them, and it was as if they groaned angrily as I passed. I encountered no animals in the thicket, and its eerie silence passed through me, made me one with it. The woods were alien to me; it was no part of my homeland I had ever visited. The air felt thin, and before long I lost my breath.

Had I become so weak that running was now laborious? I was forced to confront the limits of my body—my own mortality. I held myself up on a low-hanging branch of a short, gnarled oak tree and panted, coughed and heaved until my lungs had cried out sufficiently, and then I continued my flight.

I swayed and stumbled through the thicket like a drunk, tripping on roots and myself until I was bruised and filthy. Again feeling weighed by exhaustion, I sat against a tree to rest and collect my thoughts.

I wondered why I so desired freedom. I had utterly failed in stopping Asphodim from hurting Xanthe and Tedia when I was in constant contact with him. What could I do to fight him if I was in hiding? Despair held me, and I winced as if there were tears I could weep. But none came, my eyes were dry as the arid emptiness that lay within me. Blank and weak, sleep took hold of me and I drifted off into the night.

When I awoke, it was high noon. The haze of the night had lifted and I felt stronger than the day before. As I gained my surroundings a realization dawned upon my senses: I could see the end of the wood. My pace quickened and I reached the tree-line like I had reached Asphodim’s door, fearful and timid. Beyond the woods lay mountains and hills, and I realized that the spire behind was on a woodland flat rise in the mountain range. The unforgiving geography I faced was daunting, and my trepidation made me consider turning myself back into the hands of my master.

But then another thought dawned upon me, and it washed all others away like a powerful tide. The conflict was personal. Asphodim’s goal was not to hurt those I loved, it was to injure me. If I could only survive, I might find some means to regain what I had lost, or get revenge. I mouthed the word, revenge, and it tasted sweet on my lips. I found something like determination and pressed on like it was my only choice.

In order to continue, I had to descend a short cliff of the plateau. Vertigo shot through me for an instant, but I mastered it. The drop was not much taller than myself, and there was a ledge halfway down the cliff. I mustered up the courage and slid down. The rock frayed my clothes and scraped my flesh, but I endured. The second drop was exactly my height, and all I needed to do was lower myself down.

The terrain became easier for a time, and I passed between hills along a winding path. There were rises and falls that were harder to traverse, and the sunlight warmed the air pleasantly. My mouth felt dry and my head hurt, but I stumbled along the path. I had no idea how long I walked that day without stopping. In weeks past, time had become an irrelevant and alien idea to me. All I had known was the passing of day and night. It was all I needed to know.

The hills turned into a steep incline, and then I came to a rock wall that I needed to climb. Going around was possible, but it would take time. With every breath and palpitation of my heart I felt Asphodim’s cold breath looming on the wind. I had no time. I took a deep breath as if air alone would dispel my fatigue and groped around the wall for a starting point. Steadily, cautiously, I hoisted myself up and found footing in a groove in the wall. I climbed.

As I climbed higher, my vertigo increased. I didn’t trust myself in high places—I always found myself inexplicably drawn towards the edge, and so I paradoxically feared them. I didn’t dare look down so I would not be tempted to let myself fall. Suddenly, I felt a great weight tugging me down and fear shooting through me. I reached up for the next groove in the cliff, but it moved away from me. The cliff seemed to grow rapidly before me, and it wasn’t until I looked down that I saw I lost my footing. Trepidation pounded at my heart as I fell, and as if in response to my terror, the world went black.

My eyes opened again after a time, and with consciousness came all my other senses. At that moment, I became aware of a sharp, tingling pain that shrieked through my arm. It reached up to my shoulder and dimmed my other senses. The mountain air, the rock under me and the warm mid-afternoon sun were all distant ideas. I labored for a moment to keep myself awake as I became cognizant of the pain, and then I looked at my arm.

It was bent at a cruel angle, but there was no blood, just the raw tingling of my bone. I fell on it and it broke. I stared at my arm and I accepted that I could no longer climb. I had to take the long route.

The path was an easier one to travel, but it was far longer. The pain that shot through my arm created a haze so that I had no perception of time. I was aware only of the sharp tingling of death in my forearm and the thick sweat that gathered on my skin. As the sun reached the end of its arc, I judged that I had reached the other side of the rise.

I balled my free hand into a fist and swallowed the painful haze so that I could survey the next section of terrain. A long, narrow grassland lay within a wide gorge. Unforgiving cliffs rose on either side, and at once I knew that the only way onward was to follow it. Some sparse trees grew, but in the distance some of them seemed to look different, as if the melancholy of their age showed more readily through the façade of their leaves. The grass too, seemed to lose its luster beyond a point. At one time in ages long since passed a river may have been there, but there was little water to be found when I came upon it.

I descended the slow incline into the gorge and stopped at the first tree I saw. The beauty of Eversong still held this tree, but it felt weak, as if its roots had not the depth they needed in the earth. I sat against the tree and ripped apart my shirt to make a sling for my arm, and then as sunlight faded away from the world, I clenched my eyes shut in an attempt to sleep.

But I didn’t have that luxury. Darkness brought with it hidden dangers and fears. In my mind’s eye I saw Asphodim happening upon me as I slept, and before I was aware of it my terror had pushed me to my feet and sent me running through the grassland.

My steps were weak and often failed to carry my weight; but I recovered from each fall and pushed on. As dawn crept back over the trees I realized I had stumbled all night and made little progress. I stopped and fell to my knees, panting.

I took a moment to assess my physical health. My throat was arid and dry, my temples screamed in pain, my heart was racing and I felt hot like the sun was still upon my back. My arm cried within its sling, and my various bumps and bruises were swollen with their own tears. Beyond the pang of my broken arm, my other hand and my feet tingled like I had been sitting on them. Exhaustion gripped me, and I wanted to sleep above all else.

I looked around me at the trees and grass, which had turned a sickly deep green as if overnight the trees had succumbed to a leprosy, and their leaves looked dead. Green lumps like cancerous plague bulged on their trunks and the pale light of the dawn dissipated within the sadness of the atmosphere. I knew where I was, but in my delirium I did not recognize it.

I stood up and dragged myself forth again as if the gorge went on forever. I felt like I was in a purgatory. The scenery did not change except for the increasing number of trees, until the sharp rock walls around me wore down and gradually returned to ground level. I had left the mountain range and found myself deep within the Ghostlands.

Darkness was thick all around me, and as if to abolish my sense of accomplishment, my exhaustion tightened its grip on me and I began to retch dryly on the ground. An ague shook me as I dug my fingers into the ground and vomited nothing but air, and then I passed into darkness.

For a moment, I thought I was dreaming when I opened my eyes. I saw the thin but determined visage of a young woman kneeling over me, and her compassionate mien held me in my moment of weakness. As my other senses returned I heard the sound of cart wheels on stone and the voices of two men near me. When she saw I was awake, she called out to her companions, “He’s awake!” Her voice was full of alacrity. She smiled down at me and tried to calm me like I was panicking, but I was sullen and still. She touched my forehead and said, “It’s okay. You’re safe.”

[Sadron]

VI

Years passed. Years that I lived without a home or friend to call my own. I was alone in the world, and constantly fleeing from a single man that had become a distant fear. Asphodim seemingly disappeared from the world, leaving only the scars on my body as his legacy.

I am not a person.

I stayed with the Farstriders for months, healing my arm and regaining my strength. With provisions the Farstriders gave me, I fled south as soon as I could . I found a wounded worg pup by the side of the road, and in a moment of rare compassion for the animal, tended its wounds and brought it with me. I named the wolf Draugath and he stayed with me as a companion. Together we stayed on the road and pressed on for days, weeks, until we finally came out of the veil of plague that draped over much of the lands of the North. We came out of Tirisfal and out into Hillsbrad.

The Human lands of the north were unfamiliar to me, but with the stench of death lifted from the air I found myself staring north with a burning lust for vengeance. A change came over me, and a directionless rage took hold in my heart. It was as if my scars knitted together to form an ireful bandage on my soul, and I embraced it. I solidified my prejudice, pride and wrath and formed a wall with them to make myself strong, and I lived behind it for two years. I scoured the Eastern Kingdoms paradoxically. Fleeing from Asphodim while hunting him down, I both evaded and faced my fears. I pushed away my family, forgot my friends and lived in solitude in the wilds with Draugath. I became cynical, hard and unkind. I loathed myself, what Asphodim had made me and what I had been all along. I denied his words by living them and I lost sight of who I was.

I lived in my confusion until I found the light. It was as if I had awoken from a violent dream to the bright morning sun. I learned the ways of the light in an old monastery, manned by brave vindicators in the Plaguelands. The philosophies that I learned, however, were somewhat unorthodox. Instead of compassion and forming connections with others, I learned to manifest the light through diligence, self-mastery and calm, focused solely inward to make myself like the vindicators I learned from. I learned to control my emotions, master my body and become a wholly neutral being. The light I used could not heal wounds and it did not bring peace. It was a tumultuous sea of retribution that brought peace through war and healed through pain. It was perfect.

Under the Vindicators in the Plaguelands--Draenei, Blood Elf and Human alike, I grew to become a Holy Archer. I donned red cloth with hardened leather armor, red and silver greaves and a black cloak with red trim. A black stringless bow was slung upon my back and a steel shortsword with a golden hilt was sheathed at my waist. Looking back, I felt that I had somehow triumphed over Asphodim. His goal had been to break my spirit for his own sick pleasure, but I pieced it back together and reforged it like an elvish blade. And like an elvish blade, it became stronger. I then felt a completeness that had eluded me my entire life. It was time for me to give up my hunt for Asphodim, and I did. I let go of the suffering he caused me and moved on. The jaded lenses with which I saw the world faded away and I began to see things objectively. I found guidance in my own moral compass, and the light would answer me as long as I followed what I believed to be right. The light gave me an answer to my lack of purpose: I stopped trying to find a path to follow and decided to carve one out for myself.

Finally at peace with my darkest chapter, I again turned south and boarded a ship to Kalimdor. I left Draugath at my family's estate under the care of our servants. He never liked ships, so I decided it would be better to leave him on his native continent. The trip was peaceful for most of the journey, but as Kalimdor came into distant view the wind came to a stop. Obsidian clouds reached across the sky with their rumbling hands and the sea began to rock the ship like it was quivering. I was curious at first--weather like that was uncommon to say the least--but a hesitant palpitation of my heart sounded through me as a lookout rung his bell and began shouting information down to the crew. His voice was almost blotted out by the deafening quiet on the ocean, but the crew of the ship began to frantically move about their duties to move the ship as if they had heard him or instinctively knew what to do.

All sound fell deaf on my ears as myself and the other passengers on the ship stared westward, where an incarnadine glow began to spread upon the horizon. A roar that sounded like the breaking of thunder against the earth boomed across the sky and hit the ship with such force that the wood creaked as if it would shatter. Slowly, I moved to the front of the ship and watched as the distant red line grew closer and took on a shape. Wings. Fire. A dragon. The water reflected the clouds so that the ship looked to be floating in a void. I stood at the front of the ship and stared numbly at the dragon.

A Kaldorei woman just behind me cried out with fear and shock, "Xaxas!" I looked back at her briefly. Her violet face was pale with terror and her silver eyes flickered as she stared at her inescapable fate. For a moment I observed her. She was dressed in animal skins with a necklace of beads.I knew the Kaldorei were ancient; the woman could have been well over a hundred centuries old, and she stood with all her timelessness, afraid of death.

The sight of her struck fear into my own heart. Then her cry reached me. Xaxas. I knew name vaguely. I knew it meant chaos, death, but I didn't know who it meant. There was a harshness to it, and as I looked back at the approaching I became aware of its intense speed.

Xaxas drew close and the black clouds turned to flame, the water pulsed red like lava and as he passed over our ship. The wood cried out in agony and the ship broke in two under the shadow of his wings. I stumbled as the shockwave flew through the wood and I fell into the water. My fall sent me deep underwater, and I opened my eyes at the climax of my plunge and looked towards the surface. Some people floated limply in the water, other struggled to find pieces of wood to cling to. The Kaldorei woman shifted into her aquatic form and began taking passengers on his back.

I resurfaced and saw that the clouds were the colour of ash. Deathwing flew towards the Eastern Kingdoms, and though we were spared the full extent of his malice I feared for where he was flying. I climbed onto a large slab of wood and lay panting upon the waves for what seemed like an age.

I washed up on Kalimdor, alone. I had survived the Shattering, but as I wandered inland I saw the Great Divide that had been struck in the Barrens. The world had been broken, forever changed by Deathwing's wild anger. War broke out. Resources became scarce. Friendships died. People died. In the aftermath of the Cataclysm Deathwing's Darnassian name made sense in my mind. Chaos.

The Shattering became a reflection of all I had overcome in the years since my torture. The War, famine, violence and destruction it brought were all the result of loathing and rage--things I had only barely overcome within myself. In the ruined earth of the Great Divide before me I saw both chaos and purpose. Just as I had brought peace within myself, I made it my goal to bring what peace I could to the ashes of Azeroth.

As I surveyed the damage, my scars felt like a proud standard. Asphodim was right, I thought, I'm not a person.

I am a weapon.

[ProjectRandom]

This is great, but I don't understand the title. "All that we see or seem". Seem what?

[Edgar]

(( It's from one of Edgar Allan Poe's works.

"Is all that we see or seem but a dream within a dream?" ))

[Sadron]

((The title will make sense in due time! I just need to connect them. Thank you for reading!))