Gifts of Affection

His face burned red with shame as he was paraded through the town, tied like a prisoner to the back of a hawkstrider. He buried his face in the bird’s oversized feathers, trying to hide his embarrassment. The woman slowed down as they entered into the town square, letting the townsfolk get a good look at her catch. Vaen couldn’t understand their Thalassian chattering, nor did he want to. The tones ranged from disgust and pity, to anger and outright hostility.



Being untied from the bird and thrown over the Sin’dorei woman’s shoulder humiliated him in ways he never thought possible. He wished he could be run through then and there, instead of having to endure another second of being carried by a woman. His eyesight had returned enough to make out the big gales of mocking laughter as the Sin’dorei inhabitants pointed and sneered at him. More than one made a motion of a slice across the neck.



Relief swept over him as she carried him down into a sculpted stone building, down into a basement level. Torch after torch flickered past as they made their way deep into the bowels of the island. The cool breeze above was replaced by a damp, sickly chill. At least here no one could see him in his shame.



They stepped to the bottom-most level, to a small, plain stone room. Creaky iron bars formed a cage around one corner of the room, a rusty door hanging on a hinge completing the cell. Bits of straw and hay were piled into a corner of the cell, a small wooden bucket on the other end. A small torch hung in a brazier outside the cell, and below it were stacked several barrels and wine casks. But Vaen’s eyes were fixed on one thing. The remnants of a yellowing skeleton lay crouched against the corner of the cell, numerous nicks and cracks forming along the dessicated bones.



She threw open the cell door before unceremoniously dumping him on the ground. “You’ll learn to envy him, boy.” She grunted as she dug her booted heel into his back, carving apart the ropes binding him together like she was opening a taped crate.



Vaen squirmed as he felt the bindings cut loose from his legs and arms. He could move, but only barely. His blood still felt sluggish as the crippling poison still coursed through his veins. He heard the iron cell clang shut, then the twist of a key. He turned his head over, shooting the woman a defiant look, now that he was safely separated by iron bars.



“You’re fortunate the Magistrix is in Silvermoon at the moment. But…” A wicked grin crossed her lips. “…but she will not mind if I show our prisoner the path to redemption. Make no mistake… it will be long and arduous, full of sacrifice and self-examination.” There was a hint of amusement in her voice as she imitated what Vaen supposed the Magistrix spoke like. “Oh no… especially not after she learns the victim was her favorite pupil.”



Vaen lay silent as he studied the Sin’dorei intently. Long, luxuriant crimson hair cascaded down her shoulders. Her face was shaped not unlike Senna’s, with sharp, yet delicate features. Rather than soft and kind, her emerald eyes were piercing and hawk-like. Her lips seemed like they were much more familiar curling into a sneer than forming a coy grin. She was dressed from head to toe in functional leather armor, clinging tightly to her form and dyed black. There were no frills or decorations on her uniform, save for the discolored patches of dried blood. His blood. She was lithe and slender, and her movements accentuated her deadly grace.



“If I were you…” She turned her back to him as she made her way back up the stairs. Her voice echoed down. “I’d see if I could kill myself with that bucket and some straw.”



Vaen slowly crawled to his feet, sitting down against the wall, grimacing. His body ached. He looked down to his side. The wound where she had stuck him in sleep was clotting. He knew any sudden movements could rupture the nasty wound, a risk he was unwilling to take while locked in a dungeon.



He sat in silence, pondering his fate. There was no time while in the cell, only him and his conscience, locked together. He fidgeted as his mind began to wander. Never before had he sat so still. His mind began conjuring thoughts to occupy his time.



“This was her plan all along.” His mouth curled into a sneer. “I’ve been played. To think I trusted that little whore.” He could feel the anger building up inside.



“She had that dagger all along. But no, getting away wouldn’t be enough. She wanted to ruin me. To plant it on me. To frame me.” His brows furrowed. “That treacherous whore!”



“To think I was going to let her go. Her sister shows up the next morning. Coincidence?” He clenched his fist, his face grimacing in exertion as he struggled against the crippling poison. “I think not.”



“And now, here I am. It’s all over.” Vaen looked around the cell, his eyes transfixed on the yellowing ribcage off to the side. “Maybe she’s right. It’d be easier if I just killed myself.” He focused on the curled bones. “Break off a rib, and ram it into my nose, and pierce my…” Vaen shuddered. He dismissed the thought.



“…Master? May I have a word?”



Vaen looked around. The room was empty. He looked down to his waist. The tome was open. It must’ve opened when she threw him against the ground.



“What? Are you just going to gloat too? If so, I don’t want to hear it.”



“On the contrary, Master. In fact, perhaps I may be able to aid you.”



Vaen raised his eyebrow in suspicion. “Why should I trust you?” It never quite sat right with him that he was speaking telepathically with a book.



“As I’ve mentioned before, Master, I am a tome of power. I am the conduit of knowledge, the collection of all observations, the fruit of all learning. I can guide you, but it is up to you to shape your own destiny.”



“Yes, yes. I am the master of my own fate. Hurry up and tell me the quickest way to death, book.”



“As you observed earlier, the quickest suicide would be from breaking off a rib and severing your spine with it. Very nasty, very painful, and very unrecommended.” The tome paused. “…But there is another way out, that doesn’t involve your untimely demise.”



“Then hurry up and tell me!” Vaen snapped. His eye lingered on the broken ribcage.



“It is a very risky and dangerous endeavour, Master.” The book patiently explained. “Such a course of action would require you trust my guidance completely. Is this something you’re willing to do, Master?”



“Yes, now get on with it!”



Vaen felt a shiver. It was as if the book smiled.



“Then I bestow this advice.”



Vaen’s hair stood on end as the tome spoke.



“…Show no weakness, do not admit error, do not show hesitation. These things tell others that you are uncertain, and a stone that is unbalanced may be toppled."



Vaen was quiet for a moment as he pondered the tome’s words. Finally, he spoke. “…And how does this apply to me?”



“You are most wise to ask, Master. The red-haired one is studying you, watching your every move. She is confused, perplexed. Her threatening words are fearsome, and her abuse painful. But yet you do not break like so many of her prey before you. ‘Why?’ She wonders.”



Vaen scratched his chin in thought. “…Yes. That much is true. But I’m not connecting the dots…”



“Allow me to finish. Steel your resolve and bear her cruelty unflinchingly. She expects you to crumble, to beg at her feet, pleading to spill to her all your secrets. She will be frightened when you do not break. Terrified.”



“Nurture fear in others, for only fear rules men. Nothing else leaves deeper scars.” Vaen repeated. His lips curled into a grin as he began to follow the tome’s diabolical plan.



“Very good, Master. You are an excellent pupil.”



“And what next? When she sees that I do not break?”



Vaen heard footsteps coming down the steps. He snarled in anger at the interruption as he quickly moved the black book behind him, out of view. A neatly pressed white robe came into view, wrapped around a small, slender frame. Vaen sneered. Her skin was washed, the creamy pale flesh free from any trace of grime or dirt. A sad look hung in her green eyes as she walked towards him, standing a safe distance from the iron cell.



“Come to stare at the beast?” Vaen snarled, his voice full of venom. “You betrayed me. You planned this all along.”



“You are sick, Vaen. I see it clearly now… a darkness clouds your judge—“



“I DON’T NEED YOUR PITY!” Vaen howled like a worgen as he leapt up against the side of the cell, the burning hatred in his face as he stared daggers at Senna. “You won, now finish your self-righteous gloating and get out!”



“I trusted you, Vaen!” Her voice wavered as her thin façade of calmness crumbled, unleashing a torrent of emotion. “I healed you! I protected you!”



“To save your own life!” He barked in response.



“Do you really think that?” Her voice softened as tears quivered in her eyes. “Are you really that selfish, Vaen? Can you only see what’s in front of you?”



Vaen stared silently through the iron bars, his hate-filled eyes smoldering, imaging his fingers wrapped around her neck.



“Can’t you see how much you’ve hurt me, Vaen?” She walked close to him, though she kept out of reach of his arms. “You’ve taken my purity… I can no longer become a priestess. My life would be a lie. My family will disown when they learn I am no longer fit to be wedded… not after what you’ve done to me.” Senna’s voice broke into a sob. “What would you have done if I became pregnant with your child, Vaen? Would you keep raping me? Murder me and leave me rotting in a ditch?” She looked pleadingly into his eyes. “You’ve shattered all my dreams, Vaen. But I want to forgive you. Just answer my one question…”



She grabbed his hand through the cells, twining her fingers with his as she looked him straight in the eye. It was as if there were a window to her soul in the mesmerizing emerald eyes. “Why?” She mouthed.



Vaen knocked her hand away, pushing her backwards from him. He broke the gaze, looking past and through her as he replied in a cold, distant voice.



“Love must often be cruel in order to rise above the sentimental.”



Senna stepped backwards in shock. “I ask you a serious question, and all you can do is utter some philosophical musing, Vaen? That doesn’t even make sense!” Her voice grew angry. “You don’t even love me… you used me to slake your lusts! You’re nothing but a sick animal!”



Her eyes narrowed as her tone turned accusatory. “You are a selfish coward! All you care about is yourself!”



“The soul of a man is a sea of emotions. Often man struggles to bring order to these emotions, but it is a false order. Man's natural state is chaos, and it is a state that should be surrendered to." Uttered the blackened tome.

“The soul of a man is a sea of emotions. Often man struggles to bring order to these emotions, but it is a false order. Man’s nautral state is chaos, and it is a state that should be surrendered to.” Uttered Vaen.



“You’re wrong!” Senna shouted. “I thought you would know of honor and virtue and trust, Vaen. I thought wrong.”



“Honor and virtue are concepts that kill men and kill the spirit. They are but abstracts that drive men to strangeness and death. Be true to yourself and obey only your own will." Uttered the book.

“Honor and virtue are concepts that kill men and kill the spirit. They are but abstracts that drive men to strangeness and death. Be true to yourself and obey only your own will." Uttered Vaen.



Senna trembled with visible rage, her face contorted with anger. “You crush my dreams of becoming a priestess, and now you want to desecrate my faith with your lies, too?” Tears ran down her cheeks as emotion overcame her. “You are an evil, black-hearted man! I hate you!”



Vaen sat back down on the ground, watching with a smile on his face as she stormed up the stairs.



“Now, as you were saying?”



“Yes, the red-haired one. She will wonder why she can break your flesh, but not your spirit. And that, Vaen, is when she will wander into your cell while you are asleep, seeking the source of your strength.”



Vaen’s lips grinned wickedly.



“I see you’ve connected the final dot, Vaen. She will pick me up.”