Had Enough [Savagekin]

[Reese]

Prologue – For Your Own Good

Spoiler:

Happening after the Skin Thieves Event, Scout, plus the time it'd take for everyone to settle back into normal life.

I am somewhere in my own world, which has just been shattered. The bomb has been dropped. I’ve no hope of ever going back to the way things were. Why is all this happening, you may ask? Because my “Grandfather,” one I’ve come to respect, RESPECT, thinks she is “disrespectful.” Pompous ass! Uncaring villain! Who are they to say whom I should be with? They have no right, no privilege. I am to be penalized because I chose the one I love not to their expectations, but to my own. Knowing my family, though, I can be bitter all I want. It changes nothing. I am now forced to sever all communications with her and never speak to her again if she is to even retain her life. And I desire very greatly to have no more blood on my hands. No more innocent blood… It has to end. For her own good.

Saksha Shadowedge stood, grim faced with a horrible ache in his heart. His very blood seemed to go cold as ice. The one thing that had loved him more than others was not going to be taken from him; taken from him by those whom he thought he loved, whom he should love. But here he is, as angry as you please. Strutting around thinking he could tell HIM how to live HIS life. He could not! Especially when this woman was an Elf. An Elf! Long has xenophobia been his Grandfather’s most defining feature, but this was one of his own kinds. And still he rejects her!

He had only been called back Teldrassil a few days ago. Before this he was pleasantly enjoying his time with his new powers, reveling in the connection to nature and the final understanding of his people. He was one of them. He was enlightened. He was also spending time with Tarania Moonrise, a gem of an elf, and one whom Safksha had grown to care for very greatly. Then, the letter came. It was from his Grandfather, and he was told that he must make for the Great Tree, and that they had things to discuss.

Things, perhaps, wins the understatement award of the year.

His Grandfather, his family, did not look at all happy to see him. Indeed, he was immediately taken to his Grandfather’s home, a large tree stump with furniture, and forcibly sat down on a chair, not gently. The lack in his face still shone in Safksha’s mind, he lack of love, the lack of caring, the lack of any feeling at all. There was simply nothing there. And then, he was told of how this particular Elf associated too much with Humans, Draenei, Sin’dorei and the like. She was disrespectful, impure, unenlightened, these of course being the gentlest terms he used. Safksha was not to see her again. Ever. And he could do naught but obey.

He was forced to make a dread march through Darnassus yet again. Leaving The Stump, a chilled wind blew through the yet-to-be-ancient city. He ignored it. Nothing could be colder than the glacier that was his stern mind and slivery heart. He kept a tight-lipped seriousness throughout the ordeal, feeling as though the whole of the city regarded him as a ghost, something abnormal. Indeed, many Kal’dorei going about their business stopped and looked at his grim face and cold disposition. Some might think him going to his own death, or a hanging (if Kal’dorei had such practices). And all he was doing was going to the mailbox.

Dear Tarania,

I am sorry to tell you this, but I muscle past the rock in my throat to

inform you that it’s over. It’s over is such a human phrase, but it is. We

cannot see each other anymore. Don’t be angry. You mustn’t be angry

with me. I… also can’t tell you why, for fear of what that might mean.

Just trust me that this is the truth and that every moment of writing

this is worse than an eternity in the hands of the Legion.

Forgive me, but do not forget me,
Safksha

Safksha Shadowedge dropped it in the mailbox and left. No other words could be said.

---

Storyline One – Contentment Never Lasts

Part One – The Resolve

Darnassus was so very quiet today. Even the chirruping birds were a distant tune carried to him by the wind. Still he walked. A simple walk it was, one foot in front of the other. There was no spring in his step, no sullen drawl; no dragging of the feet through the dirt and the much as if lifting a simple appendage was an effort not worth fighting for. None of these, just a simple stride. Again came the impression to onlookers that he was a man approaching his imminent death. Such a depressing aura he cast, one of helplessness and sorrow. This was a man that seriously needed cheering up. But who to go to?

Tarania? He was now “forbidden to see her”.

Try to find his Sister? She’d just laugh.

No one in his family had an ounce of compassion. His Grandfather was a hard, emotionless man whose compassion never extended beyond the Night Elven borders. Indeed, he didn’t even show kindness to some WITHIN Night Elven borders, which was the whole problem currently. His Sister? Something happened to her while he was away, something very bad. She was no longer the Sister he had always cared for. She was not the Sister who looked so repenting once she was resurrected. This made him sad.

He was therefore forced to go to the only things now that made him happy. Or rather, he went to them on his own free will.

Walking into the forest was uneventful; he passed several groves before getting to the one The Cubs had made their home. One of them had a gnarled oak in the middle of it, providing a comforting aura of dimmed light that on hot days was most valuable. Another was filled with sweet perfumes of flowerbeds, climbing up his nostrils and giving him a serene feeling. This was such a romantic spot. Such conclusions simply flared his hurt feelings, however, and he pressed on.

Next, the softest tall-grass you ever did feel. Laying on it, no-one even required a mattress. It was enough. Looking back at these groves, Safksha just felt better. He got an inexplicable feeling that such things were provided by nature for a reason. It was just one of those perfect scenes one only sees as a portrait. He felt better already.

Coming upon the specific area he sought, his heart gave a few little flutters as those WHOM he sought immediately approached him gleefully. Three little saber cubs came upon him, trotting merrily around him like a troupe of conquering heroes. Then they pounced, clinging onto his shoe and nibbling the rough material that covered his shin.

Delighted in their capture, they romped in front of him to determine who would get the glory of the kill. Safksha watched, amused and smiling. Truly, only something so innocent as this could soften him. When he sat down, they pawed at his lap expectantly, staring at him with desiring faces.

”Nope, sorry. I haven’t got them.”

If he looked closer, he could’ve sworn they peered at him.

Their noses twitched simultaneously, always in perfect sync. He smirked, his hands tightening around what might be a delicious treat. They put their minds together and then pounced onto his hands.

”Oohh! You got me!”

He laughed and opened his hands, exposing three slivers of meat. Naturally, they each fought again for the biggest piece (though there wasn’t one, Safksha had been very precise) and nibbled robotically. They did everything such, as if they WERE actually programmed. Safksha merely assumed that they had a strong bond to do such. They relied on each other for support in their times of need and sadness.

The thought of this warmed him further.

It was at this time the Mother approached.

Keep in mind that this was not the cubs’ actual Mother, merely a substitute filling in because Safksha’s Grandfather, Urelle, asked nicely, or so he assumed. None other than Safksha himself had killed the previous Mother, for in a desperate bid to feed her family during a food shortage, she had attacked a Kal’dorei in a particular area that was faintly corrupted, leading to a tree coming crashing down upon her.

Safksha still felt guilty about this, but the new Mother was a superior huntress and could better take care of the cubs. He tried not to think of what might have been, but every so often he catches himself doing so. The cubs would have died no doubt, picked off by some larger predator. He reassures himself this, to ward off the guilt of killing the cubs’ flesh and blood. This worked, if only partially.

In any event, the Mother regarded him with a dip of her head and a stern indifference to the cheerful cubs. She, unlike them, understood that nature was serious business, and every day was a fight for survival against other species and the various natural disasters the clever girl decided to throw at them, be they rain, snow, winds, heat, anything.

Her grim looks did not deter him from throwing her a slab of meat, too. She was, after all, considerably bigger than the cubs. She was also strangely hesitant when offered a free meal. Understandable, free things never came easy, making them not free at all.

The concept of free probably didn’t even register to her. Eventually, though, she took what was given and began to rip and claw at it. Everything out here just needed a little love and compassion to be shown to them. Then they’d look out for you. Nature looks out for all of us.

And that’s when it dawned on Safksha Shadowedge, brother of Shivala Shadowedge, Grandchild of Urelle Shadowedge and the only sane member of their whole fucking family.

Nature was fair. Nature looked out for you if you looked out for yourself, people shut you down. Nature, all things considered, was better. Superior. The only way to kick it.

He looked at the Mother, smiling grimly. ”This world, am I right? I’d much rather be out with you guys all day, roughing it in the forest.”

And yet, something was a bit queer about that, something else other than the fact he was talking to a Saber like she was his drinking buddy. This New Mother of the cubs, she didn’t fit as a ‘Great Tree’ type of saber. For one, she was a huge specimen, beyond the size of the young species of cat that had come to inhabit their area. Her coat was of a lighter shade, and her claws were decidedly more honed from combat long passed. To him, and he was just making a complete assumption here, this saber seemed more like a saber of Ashenvale. Ashenvale or Darkshore, though more likely Ashenvale.

He was now quite suspecting that something was amiss.

Though he doubted Urelle would be that foolish to bring a saber all the way back from Ashenvale, he was growing more and more certain that that saber, that predator of immense respect in the Kal’dorei society, was not from here. It did not grow up here; it had never lived here until recently. But he needed to make certain.

And so he took to his Cat Form.

He did not, however, fully grasp how they communicated. One would assume they have their own language of meows and grrs, but this is not so. To try doing it as one would assume causes a misunderstanding. For all you know, you’re insulting the cat’s mother, an occurrence more common than one might think.

Safksha was still very much a novice at it, and had not, admittedly, taken the time to fully understand how they did it. But nonetheless he conveyed a vaguely coherent statement describing Ashenvale. It was riddled with errors but was passable.

The Mother nodded, confirming his suspicions. If she knew what he was describing, she had been there before. And Sabers from Ashenvale don’t just show up on Teldrassil.

And since he didn’t know how to do any verbs, he decided he’d just take her with him. The journey begins here, and a longer one there will never be.

[Reese]

Part Two - The Journey

Darnassus was indeed quiet that day. If Safksha had known the date he would’ve known why. The Lunar Festival was drawing near, and many revelers had taken to Moonglade to properly celebrate the holiday. That’s not to say that there weren’t revelries in Darnassus, but the little festivities there were he ignored. Humanoid celebrations. Commemorations of deeds long past. Animals have no holidays, no time to cut loose. They simply live their simple lives, away from the turmoil and within their own.

But Safksha wasn’t an animal now…

He now had no tail. He now had no fangs. He now had fingers. Long fingers, though muscled, seemed so unnecessary. Who would need to grab things, to shape the world from what it was meant to be? Of course, the thumbs were the worst of all. Humans would have you believe that it is the thumbs and brains that make them superior, but would a thumb save their cuts from being torn open by a hungry pride of lions? Would thumbs alter in any way the death that is to come to them all? They were, indeed, a useless development. It would not, however, make sense for a group of sabers to be stalking about in Darnassus without a humanoid to guide them.

Thus Safksha took to his Elven Shape and walked for the bottom of Teldrassil, doing his best to keep to the outskirts as much as possible. He nevertheless drew many stares, as one does not usually see an elf guiding obviously wild Sabers through a city, but nobody dared comment, as Safksha’s fierce and determined gaze either scared them off or made them realize this was none of their business. They were of no importance to him. All he wanted from this place was a way to move on.

This way revealed itself as being a mishandled longboat for sale by a fisherman. Safksha spent the last of his money on it. Well good riddance to that, at least. He could go on and on about the corrupting influence of coin, the Goblins being his primary example of all reasons. But he had work to do, and thus he put them all in acceptable positions and hoisted the boat out to sea, making sure not to let any water hit them (he doubted they had any proficiency in swimming and thus didn’t care much for water.) Then he swung himself onto it and they were off.

The journey was rather arduous. Though the cubs seemed to be enjoying themselves. They were busily swiping their paws at the water testingly, as if it were of a different sort than the ponds and lakes in Teldrassil. Never had they seen so much, it was understandable. Safksha however, was less pleased with the amount of water there was. He had to row them a relatively long distance, and that put a strain on his muscles. About halfway out he had to take a break, roll his shoulders and check on things.

They had been making good time, but would likely only make it a bit past Auberdine before nightfall. It seemed to him they’d have less resistance from outside forces at night, and yet the tales from his childhood of the forest after the precious sunlight diminished still made his skin crawl.

Camp out it is.

There was, however, still an issue of getting there, and his shoulders were burning something fierce. He would just have to push himself. This wasn’t about him. This was about getting the things he cared about to where they came from and where they belong.

So he shunted his pain away and kept on rowing. They made slow progress from then on, but nevertheless managed to make it to shore within the time frame he imagined he would. The Sun was beginning to dip behind the forlorn trees of Darkshore. Safksha pulled their boat ashore and quickly shifted form, motioning for them to follow.

The Mother grunted in recognition, lessening his fears that he was making a complete ass of himself. He probably was making an ass of himself… He knew almost nothing about these creatures’ habits. All he knew was that in some way… they had chosen him to be their protector, and he would not let them down.

Night approached ever slowly as they walked away from the shore into the waiting trees. They did not get far before Safksha declared they’d gone far enough, and they resigned to… well… not camp. They didn’t have any camping equipment, nor did they really need any. So Safksha curled up near a tree while The Mother tended to her charges. His eyes slowly closed.

And a shriek tore him from it what felt like a second later.

It wasn’t the shriek of any animal, nor of anything remotely humanoid. No, this was something else entirely, something otherworldly. It had long been said that the woods of Darkshore were haunted. He had spent his childhood there, so he had known more than anyone. But never had he heard a shriek such as this, not ever. They had probably lived too close to Auberdine for the spirits to be heard. This was an unholy thing, whatever it was.

Instinctively, he leapt towards where the Mother and Cubs were, taking a tense, if defensive stance. There was no additional shriek. It could have been a figment of his imagination, but as the Mother had raised her head the instant he had, this was unlikely. Still no follow up noise. This did not allay his fears. It made them worse. He let out a challenging roar, which lasted for a few seconds. Bird scattered, nocturnal critters leapt up in fear, but nothing supernatural made any indication that it had noticed. Safksha spent the rest of the night near to the Cubs.

He didn’t go back to sleep.

[Reese]

Part Three - The Lies We Tell

Dawn. Safksha was stiff in his shoulders and barely conscious, but he would not let anything surprise them. The cubs had trembled for what seemed like hours, but eventually went back to sleep in the end. No sleep for him, though. He didn’t need it. It was unnecessary in the protection of those that were dear to him. Soon they woke, and, still wary, peered over the slowly breathing form of the Mother to check for anything amiss. When nothing was, they leaped over her and proceeded romp around.

Now an elf again, he rummaged around the pack for food. He wouldn’t have originally brought it, only he didn’t know how to hunt and he didn’t trust the Mother to go off to do so alone, why he didn’t know. He just felt that sticking close was better than splitting up in this forest. He nevertheless dropped a few sprinklets of meat in front of the Cubs, which they happily tore into. The Mother glanced at him appraisingly, but made no move to stop him. Silently, he shifted back and finished the remainder of the food himself.

They left the pack behind.

Walking in Darkshore is never fun. In truth, Safksha never understood why it WAS so fun in his childhood. He supposed anything was or could be made fun by a child’s innocence, but looking back, he always was a little afraid of how the trees creaked. They almost seemed alive, turning to you as you dashed by, chasing after your sister. They watched you as you drank from the creek near your house, and yet he never seemed to fully notice.

After all, there is no ignorant bliss like that of a child. How well he remembered those days. He was bitter, then, sure, but not overly so. And who would not be, with the lack of love he was forced to suffer? But honestly, it was more fun than it was filled with resent. They laughed more than one would think, his sister and he, and they played mostly tag. He knew these trees well, indeed, for the games of Hide and Seek were never-ending, even sometimes carrying into the haunted night. He would always pick the best hiding spots, or maybe she’d just give up after so long a time of not finding him? It would suit her. She never did care much for him, even when he would do anything for her.

It didn’t matter. He didn’t need her anymore.

The journey was shorter than expected. They encountered little animals, and fewer travelers, though there could be an explanation for this. This was, after all, a very dangerous forest. Not many would even fare it, let alone travel through its wilder areas. But still they marched on, ignorant of the dangers. The sun was now very high in the sky, and they were nearly there. They were making good time, even if the Cubs had to stop every few seconds to inspect some newfound mysterious fallen tree branch. So detailed was their inspection Safksha actually began to think that something as mundane as a fallen tree branch had a secret that needed urgent plundering. But it had become quite easy for them to persuade him that something was true, even though he knew it to be impossible.

So deep was he in thought that he didn’t realize they were nearing the border into Ashenvale, their destination. Snapping out of his self-inspecting stupor, he hurried over a fallen tree branch at the peak of an, admittedly, smallish hill. The Cubs, typically, followed with mewls of delight, leaping back and forth. They seemed so excited, for those who had been torn away from everything they’ve ever known. But, then, this was a new adventure for their playful minds. They had forgotten the death of their mother soon enough, and now they’ve been taken from their home, being forced into a migration they really never had a say in. After all, they had to be under the watchful eye of the Mother at all times, and the Mother had to be where she belonged. As they passed the border into Ashenvale, Safksha wondered.

Safksha wondered if the Cubs were aware of just how important they were to him. He wondered if he would be missed back home, if they even cared what happened to him. He wondered if his Sister thought of where he was, what was happening to him. He wondered if she even cared. He wondered if his Grandfather had already begun to move against Tarania, be it with physical force (unlikely,) or a more under the radar approach. He wondered what he was getting himself into, what choices he was making and their effect.

Sometimes he just wondered.

The next evening came and went with little happening. Nothing shrieked that night, and now that the border to Darkshore was left behind, there was nothing left TO screech. Granted, there were many howls, as there should be in a forest. A howl and a shriek are, all things considered, very different, now that he thought about it. A howl can be cold, but it can be just as reassuring. There’s nothing reassuring about a shriek. It’s nearly always one of pain or fear or madness. Shrieks of joy rarely occur, but for human children. He’d seen it, after all.

It wasn’t long before they were weaving their way through trees and meadows and patches of flowers. She moved a lot faster than Safksha, who was always preoccupied with the Cubs’ ceaseless need for adventure. She understood that there was no waiting in this life. To wait was to die.

It was unusually quiet in the forest today. Forests weren't usually quiet. There was always something going on. Safksha began to feel uneasy, and took to looking around odd angles just to be sure they hadn't strayed off course into, Light forbid, somewhere corrupted. But they hadn't. It was far worse.

A whizzing sound, and Safksha was down.

He had been hit in the shoulder with an arrow of wicked precision. All feeling in his left leg was gone. He dimly tried to lift his head to survey what was going on. It hurt, and his head slumped back to the ground. He heard voices, and tried again. Four Orcs had some into the clearing, one of them holding a slanted shortbow from which came the arrow that so incapacitated him. They looked like they were lawless, bearing no Horde insignia. They also looked hungry.

And that's when he saw the bodies.

The Cubs were lifeless, and bloodied. Like rabbits to be skinned, one of the orcs seized them all together by their respective necks. The Mother was shouldered by another. They moved over to him.

"Rekht! This one is still alive!"

"So kill it. It's only a beast, what're you waiting for?"

Only a beast.

Safksha couldn't die like this, like a failure. He swore to himself he'd protect them, and now? Now he was a liar.

He sprinted into the brush, away from the Orcs, away from his charges, away from the darkness that had taken his heart.