The Burning

Chapter Ten

Aerai was tired. She sat astride a giant bat, flying high above the ground, while chill wind whipped across her face and the exposed skin of her throat, and upper chest, and she could barely keep her eyes open. Arrwynn was at the front of the procession, with Arsika off to the left-center. Aerai had so much to worry about, and so much to do, but she had been awake all night on top of the enormous energy expenditure from sealing the dark energy inside of Arsika. The Blood Elf decided she didn't really have to stay awake for the trip, and leaned forward, resting on the back of the winged beast and sighing at how good it felt to close her eyes, and just rest. Pressed against the thick, warm, furry back of the giant bat, Aerai quickly drifted off into slumber, and managed not to fall off the bat's back as it moved along the flight path that had been ingrained into it by countless hours of training. Even when they skirted the edges of Silverpine Forest momentarily, while a storm poured rain down upon the trees, and on the three bat riders, Aerai continued to sleep.

It was not until they descended into the Sewers of the Undercity that Aerai was jostled enough by the quick turns and dives that she was brought back to wakefulness. The sounds of many voices talking and shouting echoed up the tunnels, in a variety of languages, though mostly Gutterspeak. The clamor made further sleep difficult, and since it signalled the trio's imminent arrival, it wouldn't have done any good to go back to sleep right then. Reluctantly Aerai sat up and tried to bring herself back in working order, but that brief nap had not been nearly long enough to rejuvenate her. As the bats landed, and the three women climbed off their mounts, Aerai struggled to fight off her exhaustion and attend to business.

Arsika and Arrwynn had both been drenched by the rain storm, but Arrwynn had fared better than Arsika, since the thick layer of white feathers covering the upper portion of her robe had kept that area from getting too wet. The red-haired Blood Elf was not so fortunate. Her red robe was plastered to her body, particularly in the chest area, and since she had a tendency not to wear bras, her appearance right then, with long wet hair draping down the sides of her head, and in her face, combined with the visibility of her peaks, drew the attention of a number of nearby males, and even some females. Many weren't even the same species as Arsika. The Mage was not in a good mood, and accepted the stares and whistling and catcalls with poor grace, stalking off to find a a food vendor in the Trade Quarter who could provide her with breakfast.

The Undercity is a horrible place to most races. It stinks for one thing. It stinks like the dead, and is full of sickening noises, such as the rivers of green sludge sloshing about, or the gurgling of Abomination guards, their sewn-together bodies festering while they stand watch at the elevator entrances. Everywhere is the imagery of death, as well. Skulls, bones, monstrous visages, and the city's primary inhabitants themselves, the Forsaken. The Trade Quarter is a multi-tiered circular area, with the first floor of the actual city, that one emerges into upon exitting the elevators, being ringed with alcove after alcove. Each alcove is a walled room, suitable for businesses and "street" vendors of all kinds. Other platforms seem to float in the air, small islands held suspended by massive lengths of chain bolted into the stone. There is even an entire bank building right in the middle, atop a raised pillar.

Stairs reach the central platform, and stairs lead down to the circle of filthy marble surrounding the central platform's base. Roaches, maggots, dirt, dust, shreds of cloth, and bones all litter the ground beneath those stairs, where some of the Forsaken denizens either do business they would prefer not to be seen by others, or simply go to brood in solitude. After all, what do the dead care for filth and discomfort? Beyond this vast central core of the city, lies four other sections, each devoted to a particular brand of knowledge, or specific lines of work.

Arsika arrived at one of the Forsaken street vendors, who impassively stared straight ahead while wrapping up some bread and meat in paper. Arsika plunked down some coins from the leather purse that hung at her waist, and one of the bundles of pre-prepared food stuffs was handed off to her, without even a look from the man. That was one thing to be thankful for, at least. Not all of the Forsaken were crude and lascivious perverts. Many had no interest, romantic, sexual, or otherwise, in other beings, let alone the living. This gave Arsika the chance to take some of the bread from the bundle, and tear off a couple pieces on which to place some cured meat. She intentionally didn't look at the meat itself too closely, having learned long ago that in this land, the less attention you pay to your meal, the less likely one is to swear off eating for the rest of their life. At least the bread wasn't moldy. Actually fresh, which surprised the Elf.

As she chewed thoughtfully on her breakfast, trying not to let the stench of the Undercity invade her lungs and taint her food, Arsika wondered what was going to happen to her now. She was being rushed off to meet with some at the Scarlet Monastery, which, as far as she knew, was a bad idea under most circumstances, let alone ones such as these. Who could Aerai possibly think they could meet that wouldn't kill them on sight? Arsika still felt weakened by the events of the day prior. Her crotch and rear were sore, and all of the sex with Duskingdawn had worn her out greatly. She had gone well beyond her normal stamina limits. She was free of the influence of Sargeras' energy, but she still had to wonder... Had it really been so bad to be infused with that power, if this is how it felt to be free of it? True, it denied her her hunger, and seemed to addle her thoughts, but surely if she made the proper preparations, and was READY for what would happen, then she could control the energy, rather than let it control her... Maybe...

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Arrwynn, meanwhile, headed down a couple sets of stairs, across a wooden bridge over a river of bubbling green ooze she preferred not to know the composition of, and approached one of the Auction House vendors. She spent most of the money she earned on the things being auctioned, and with the thirty gold she had received from Duskingdawn, she was set to buy something REALLY good. After browsing the registry of items for sale she found what she was looking for in the form of some very rare magic boots.

Shiney. White. Thigh-high. High-heeled. Leather. Arrwynn looked over the description of the boots, along with the owner's drawing of them. They had enchantments that would boost her Mana reserves, her ability to recover her Mana, and make her more agile. She pondered for a moment how boots that looked so precarious to walk around in could possibly enhance agility, then noticed a couple notes on additional abilities granted to the one who wore them.

They granted perfect balance to the wearer. Arrwynn whistled low. This was a custom job alright. Possibly one of a kind. And they were being auctioned for 5 Gold. Arrwynn's mouth dropped. She couldn't believe her good luck. And there was only a short time left before the auction was over! How could someone not have bid on these before now? Grinning, she prepared to tell the auctioneer she wanted to bid on them, only to hear a guttural female voice call out in Gutterspeak her own bid for those same boots. Arrwynn turned to look in surprise at the Forsaken woman standing next to her, in red and purple Warlock robes. Arrwynn frowned and then turned her attention back to the auctioneer and informed him she was bidding on those boots as well, in Thalassian. It was the Forsaken woman's turn to look surprised as she was outbid. She scowled angrily at Arrwynn, the elf scowled back, and it wasn't long before the bidding war began.

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Meanwhile, Aerai had found a semi-secluded alcove in the Apothecarium, and had managed to focus her mind enough to conjure a communication sphere and send a message to someone. Through gritted teeth she said, "I'm on my way. Need help. Usual place." Then she closed the link as soon as she knew the message had gone through, but before she could get a response. Her contact was in a very dangerous place to be sending messages out of, so she didn't expect a response right now. Instead, as her head ached from the strain of using magic while already tired, she leaned back against the stone wall behind her, and slid down to the ground. She didn't care about how uncomfortable it was, or the creepy surroundings, or anything else. She just wanted to sleep. And a few seconds after closing her eyes, she did just that.

While Aerai slept, most ignored her utterly, with only a few Undead pausing to give curious looks at the pretty Blood Elf snoozing in a corner. However, as Alchemist Fuery walked by, on his way to procure some reagents for an experiment on Slimes, he paused and looked behind him. There was a little girl standing in front of Aerai, holding a red rubber ball in her hands, and watching the woman. The girl had curly black hair, dead-white skin, and stitches marring her otherwise pristine flesh. She had a slender body, with the pointed ears of an elf, and wore a black dress with a white collar, black tights, and black shoes... A Forsaken child? Fuery thought to himself. You do not see one of those very often... Let alone Elven ones. Most children remained dead. Fuery's thoughts darkened for a moment, his hatred for the Scourge and all it had wrought bringing his mind back to his work. But just as he began to walk forward again, he found himself pausing to look back one more time. Was that girl there before, when I first walked by? I don't remember seeing her... And to Fuery's surprise, upon his second inspection, he found the girl wasn't there anymore.

Staring in silence at the spot where the Elf child had stood, and then slowly tracking his eyes around the circular area, across the counters, at barrels, and anywhere else a child could hide, he saw that none of them were close enough for a child to have dashed behind while he wasn't looking. Something was wrong here. But he didn't have time to go chasing after phantom children, and it wasn't as though ghosts were absent from Lordaeron. It was probably simply that. A ghost. Shrugging it off, Fuery proceeded on his way.

Aerai never knew that either had been there. She continued to slumber.

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Arsika had managed to fend off the flirting of various people, and dry herself, much to the disappointment of others, and was looking for her other companions, to find out when they were going to leave for the Scarlet Monastery. She wasn't in any hurry to run into such a place, but she also didn't want to worry about the dark energy inside of her anymore. She wanted to resolve this, whether that meant controlling the demonic energy, or expelling it, she wanted to know what was going to happen in her life now. She found Arrwynn still at the Auction House when she finished her business in the Trade Quarter. The Forsaken woman was yelling something in Gutterspeak, and with her very rough knowledge it sounded like the woman was angry about some shoes. Arrwynn was responding with her own yells. "STOP BIDDING YOU WRETCHED HAG!" There was only a few minutes left in the auction, and neither seemed to be prepared to give up, as they kept bidding higher and higher. Arsika shook her head and smirked, before resuming her search for Aerai.

She almost walked past Aerai when she found her, having checked everywhere else, and not thinking the other Mage would be in such an out-of-the-way niche. To find that she was asleep was even more surprising, but she hadn't known that Aerai was awake all night, or the strain that the seal had put on her. Deciding to let her sleep for a little while longer, she headed over to the Enchanting Shop since she was already in the area, to pick up some supplies. On the way, she encountered Arrwynn coming back from her bidding war. "How did it go?" Arsika asked, as if the enormous grin on the silver-maned elf's face wasn't answer enough.
"Take a look at these and maybe you can guess!" Arrwynn lifted up the hem of her white robe to show off her new Boots of Equilibrium. In the process she also wound up showing off a bit more than intended, including her bare thighs, and white panties. Arsika eyed the entire display and said honestly, "Very nice."
"Aren't they though?" Arrwynn then arched a silver eyebrow as she looked beyond Arsika, and asked, "Hey, who are those people?" Arsika turned to see who Arrwynn was talking about, and discovered that her admirers had apparently followed her. And that they had developed a new interest, in the form of Arrwynn.
"Oh, that's just some of your new admirers."
"Eh?" Arrwynn looked confused.
"Or at least admirers of your underwear."
"EH!?" Arrwynn exclaimed.
"Might want to put down your robes, dear," Arsika suggested off-handedly. Arrwynn immediately dropped them, and held them down with both hands as her face went bright red with embarassment. Then she yelled at the people who had been oggling her.
"I'm married, you jerks!"
"We don't care! You still have nice panties!" One of them called out. Arrwynn turned even redder, though with embarassment, anger, or a mix of the two, was unclear. She then started yelling back at them.
"PERVERTS! STUPIDS! JERKS! PEA-BRAINS! NINCOMPOOPS! PANDAREN ABUSERS!"
"Hey!" One of the guys yelled back. "We take great offense to that! We'd never hurt a Pandaren!" They were apparently not quite as offended by the other things Arrwynn called them. Arsika put an arm around Arrwynn's shoulder and guided her away.
"Come on, we have stuff to do."
"Uncouth barbarian mffn frrghn..." Arrwynn muttered unintelligibly to herself as she allowed herself to be directed away.

Arsika bought the supplies she needed at the Enchanting store and took care of miscellaneous other upkeeping, tasks, and chores, and then headed back to where she'd left Aerai. Arsika shook Aerai awake, and told her what time it was, and Aerai managed to get up off the floor fairly quickly. "Shouldn't have let me sleep so long." She said around a yawn, as she stretched her arms.
"You looked like you needed the rest."
"I suppose I did. But now we'll have to move quickly to get to our destination in time. Come on, let's head out." The three Blood Elves left the Undercity, and emerged into Tirisfal Glades, looking up at the unnaturally colored sky, and seeing it was nearing night already. They travelled north to the fork in the road, and then turned east, moving along the cobblestone path as far east as possible without going beyond their objective and having to backtrack. Then they followed the dirt path across the fields, and beneath the trees, as the moon rose in the sky, casting a sickly green hue upon the land. The darkness deepened, mist clinging to the grass, as the three Elves trekked across the wilderness, heading north-east. They eventually stopped, however, at a graveyard known as Faol's Rest, before actually reaching the Monastery, as Aerai explained what was going to happen.
"I have a contact inside the Scarlet Crusade. She'll be meeting us here, so as not to draw unnecessary attention either to herself, or to us. We don't need to get into any fights at this point in time. So we just wait here until dark."
"What do we do while we wait?" Arsika asked, and then as her stomach grumbled, and realized she hadn't eaten a meal since breakfast, she knew the answer before Aerai gave it. The ebony-haired elf sat down on the grass, pulled some cheese from one of her packs, and smiled.
"We eat."

-------------End Chapter Ten-------------