Ascent into Empyrean

"Grok'sha! Nal! Nal!"



The tip of the orc's whip cracked inches from Lathan's face and he flinched, despite it being meant for the milling swine not him. People and stock crammed the zeppelin's flightdeck as those trying to disembark collided with those coming aboard. Bodies squeezed together, coarse voices rising high, the heat and stench so alien and terrifying that they penetrated the haze in Lathan's mind.



He remembered the cell in Silvermoon and the magister coming for him. He remembered the agony as every last scrap of stolen magic was drained away, but after that everything was a blank until he woke up chained to this balustrade. That had been several hours ago.



Lathan wrapped his hands around his manacles, pressed his face to his shoulder and did his best to ignore the crowds. His body shook, wracked with the pain of magic withdrawal, his skin felt tight and stretched. And he wished as hard as he could to be dead.



Death would be too easy for filth like you, his conscience whispered darkly. You deserve more. So much more.

He sniffed and rubbed his face on his shirt. It was true. Sassi was dead and it was his fault. He deserved to pay for that.



"You've something for me?"



The words were spoken in Thalassian. Momentarily heartened, Lathan peered round the railing and was just able to spot a brightly clad female sin'dorei speaking with the zeppelin captain. Was she there for him? He'd expected goblins, or worse, the bestial orcs, but one of his own people? Perhaps things would not go so badly for him after all.



They should! Nothing you suffer could possibly compare to what you did to her!



Lathan closed his eyes, trying to banish the whispers in his head.



"This? This is what he sends me? What am I supposed to do with this?" The screech blared out above him. Lathan glanced up and then really wished he hadn't bothered. So much for things not going so badly. The female's face was flushed the same colour as her scarlet robes, the finger she jabbed towards him trembling with fury. He cowered away from her anger, only to have her grab him by the hair and yank his head back. "Look at it! It's half-Wretched already."



"Eh, I don't know nothing about that. Just delivering 'im. Condition as is. But off the ship now, else there'll be more to pay."



"Of course there will." She looked tempted to throw him over the side rather than collect him officially. Not at all certain that he'd survive a fall of that distance, Lathan tried smiling at her. She grimaced. "Kael's balls, don't do that. You look vile enough anyway."



At her gesture a vast form appeared behind her and rumbled, "Yes, mistress."



Lathan blinked up at it, not sure what it could be. Too pale to be an orc, but far too large to be human, the mountain of flesh had a horn in the centre of its forehead and exuded a brutish strength. When it reached for him with one massive paw, Lathan squirmed away, but it ignored him, focussing instead on the chains that held him bound to the ship. With a single jerk, it separated the links and hauled upward, dragging Lathan to his feet, and then strode off after its mistress with Lathan in tow. He stumbled after, legs half-asleep and body aching from thirst, hunger and withdrawal.



The walk seemed to go on forever, though truly it could not have been more than a few hundred yards. But it was too far for Lathan. After tripping over one too many rocks, his legs finally gave out and he collapsed to his knees, ending up being dragged for a few feet before the great brute noticed anything amiss.



"Mistress."



"What now? Oh for pity's sake." Sighing gustily, the female leaned down over him. Lathan stared back at her. The sky behind her was bright blue, the same colour his mother's eyes had been… before.



Before, when Papa was alive and Sassi was alive and home was the rooms above the shop and his days were spent at his lessons or fishing with his friends. But then the Scourge had come and everything had been destroyed. Mother and Papa and…



A vast pain seized in Lathan's chest, bile rose in his throat and he lurched sideways, vomiting into the dusty red soil. But that was the last of his control. His body was shaking so hard, his teeth rattled in his head, and he felt like he was burning up, his body contorting and twisting.



"Hold him!"



And then, oh by the light! The blessed touch of magic coursing through him, bathing every cell of him and pushing back the agony. He gasped, gulping down air as his body absorbed the magic, demanding more even as it revelled in what it had.



"More!" he gasped out, but the power shut off like a tap. Lathan whimpered as the female's hand left his chest, already craving more. But, as his mind cleared and the pain slowly stopped, he knew he would survive. At least until the withdrawal became too much again.



"Get him on his feet."



It took a couple of tries, but eventually Lathan was standing upright, if swaying slightly and supported by a hand twisted in the back of his shirt.



"Cousin or no, I'll stake Vassen out in the sun for this," the female hissed. Lathan squinted at her. She was looking a little pale herself. Had he really taken that much? "And as for you," she added, poking him hard in the chest, "That reserve of yours just went up by another five gold."





The gates of Orgrimmar loomed ahead. Crowds surged around them, races of every kind pushing and shoving to get into the city. Towed behind the brute, Lathan did his best to keep up and look around at the same time. Back in the old days, before the Scourge, humans had been a not uncommon sight in the streets of Silvermoon. He even remembered seeing dwarves and, on one memorable occasion, a tiny gnome spellcaster. These days many new allies visited, but this was different. In Silvermoon the sin'dorei were always in command, the other races always inferior. Here, in these parched dusty alleyways, he was in the minority.



Hulking orcs haggled with massive tauren bulls whose shoulders were wider than Lathan was tall, and around the open fires huge trolls laughed and danced and drank. Between them slipped smaller forms: the Forsaken, each a hideous memory of the horrors from his past, and a few, so very few, butterfly-bright sin'dorei.



Even the architecture was wrong. No elegant gilded towers here, but wood and hide and looming stone edifices with doorways that could fit two sin'dorei atop each other.



For the first time in his life, Lathan felt truly small.







They stopped finally, and above the general hubbub around them Lathan heard a voice call out, "Excellent, Blot, you're back. And Mistress Valessen, always a pleasure. Do you have a deal for me today?"



"Sadly, Kaggol, I think it unlikely."



Hauled to the fore, he found himself face to face with a goblin sporting an eye-patch, who regarded Lathan in much the same way Lathan would have looked at a slightly mouldy piece of fish.



"My cousin has the ridiculous notion that he'll raise more in Orgrimmar than Silvermoon. I told him not to count on it. The market's flooded with useless bodies at the moment."



"Indeed it is. Indeed it is." Kaggol hopped up on a box. "Bring him here then, Blot, there's a good fellow."



"O-kay."



The brute – which apparently answered to the name of Blot – towed Lathan forward until he stood within the goblin's reach. The goblin glared at him. "Well," he said after a moment, "Open up."



"Pardon?"



"Your mouth." Kaggol rolled his eyes, grabbed Lathan's nose and chin and shoved a sharp thumb into his mouth to open it. "Not very bright is he? Any hidden talents." As he spoke he turned Lathan's head this way and that. "Tongue out." It was a little like visiting a doctor. "Healthy enough, I suppose, though that's not such a novelty these days." Mouth released, Lathan snapped it shut, then opened it again to yelp when the goblin grabbed him between the legs. "Still whole. That'll drop the price. There's some who'll pay a pretty penny for a cut elf, even one as ugly as this."



Cut? Whole? Lathan's head spun. Somehow the entire business of being sold had escaped him until now. Perhaps it had been the withdrawal or the horror of Sassi's death, but now it hit with all the power of a club to the back of the head.



For a second, he froze, then all the fear spilled out. "Get off me!" he wailed, squirming and, in the process, accidentally slamming his elbow into Blot's belly. Taken by surprise, the brute lost his grip on the chain. Lathan didn't need a second chance; heart in his mouth, he darted into the crowd, dodging right and left, squeezing through gaps that were hardly there. Behind him someone yelled out; he ignored them, kept his head down and pushed forward. He might not have a clue where he was going, but anywhere had to be better than back there.



An alleyway appeared ahead. Lathan dodged down it, taking a second to look before heading into the shadows. One thing he knew for certain; he couldn't keep running, not with Valessan and Blot on his heels. He had to hide.



Although he was nowhere near as proficient at disappearing as Sassi, she had taught him a few tricks during their years of childhood games. A few yards more and there! A doorway. Exactly what he'd been looking for, out of the way and deserted. He pressed close and tight, hugging the darkness where two walls met, where the shadow was deepest, and willed himself to vanish.



"Down there, mistress. Blot saw him. Saw him come this way, mistress."



"Blot better had seen him or Blot'll find himself on the auction block."



"Blot sorry, mistress. Blot didn't mean to let the bad elf go."



A snort of utter disdain followed. "Down here?"



"Yes, mistress."



Lathan froze, watching as they passed almost close enough to touch, not daring to so much as breath until they turned the corner and disappeared. For a long moment, he remained motionless, certain that they'd be back, then he sagged against the wall, knees shaking and teeth chattering from fear. That had been far to close.



But he couldn't stay where he was. Sooner or later they would be back, and surely his luck wouldn't hold up twice. Gathering the chains between his hands to keep them quiet and also, hopefully, make them less noticeable, he turned back towards the sunlit street - only to measure his length over the horribly familiar goblin who was standing directly behind him.



"Going somewhere?" Kaggol smirked, then clubbed him upside the head.