Gifts of Affection

His mind flittered with thoughts as walked over and picked up the torn robe. He dusted off the white fabric before he draped it over the blood elf’s shoulders, smoothing it over her body as he covered her modesty. She flinched away from his touch. He didn’t blame her.

Vaen was silent as he studied her body, her eyes still averted from his. What options did he have now? If anyone learned about what he had done, there would be open war. A scandal would tear apart the tenuous alliance of the Shattered Sun, and there would be retribution against all humans on Quel’Danas. As much as he felt compelled by his moral conscience… a far greater force drove him. Self-preservation.

He looked through the leaves to the sky above. The sunbeams were beginning to spill into the clearing below. It was past morning, and his “adventures” had taken far longer than he had expected. His officer would be wondering where he was, and no doubt his girl’s disappearance from her marketplace corner would arouse suspicion.

He could go back to his officer and report nothing eventful. But she… he peered down at her body. She was still wracked by occasional sobs as she wrapped herself in her robe, covering every inch of her exposed body in the torn fabric. She was in no shape to be cut loose now.

He turned away from her and began dressing himself again, buckling on his heavy plate armor. He felt a small amount of shame for ravaging the girl, but it was eclipsed by the amount of pride he from dominating her body, making it his and his alone. No matter what happened next, her body would always remember him. Her first. He smirked.

Fully dressed, he turned around and walked towards her. “Get up.” He commanded.

He was displeased as his order went through one ear and out the other. He squatted down, leaning his head so that he met her pained green eyes. “I said, get up.” His hand brushed her cheek gently. “Or do you need to be… disciplined?” The way he spoke the last word left no mistake to his undertone.

His eyes watched as she slowly rose to her knees, her bruised legs kneeling before him, her face staring straight at the ground. She wiped her face with her arm as sniffles wracked her.

“Gather your things.” He pointed at the bottles scattered across the ground. He watched her intently as she sidestepped her way to her small wick basket, careful to always be facing him, one hand on her breast to hold up her robe where he had torn it asunder. Her face was sullen and dirtied as she slowly placed the bottles in neat rows in her basket, placing the small lantern on top.

He had no misconceptions about what he had done. He had raped her. He betrayed his obligation to defend the island and its populace. He was a criminal. No one could ever find out.

“Stand up.” He placed his arm across her shoulder, his hand covering over where he had shredded her clothing. His other hand grabbed her cheek, forcefully turning it to look at his face. “You were injured and lost in the woods. I’m help you. Do you understand?” He gazed penetratingly into her eyes. “Nod.”

He could see the trepidation in her eyes as she nodded. He could taste her fear, the way her hairs stood on end as she wanted to crumble under the weight of his arms. He began escorting her out of the glade, one arm around her shoulder, the other on the hilt of his sword.

They slowly made their way out of the woods, far slower than he expected. She walked with a limp and a hobble, a quick glance down showed a red trickle still running down her legs, staining the white robe with her blood. He grinned. He looked at her face, hardened in resolve as she looked straight ahead, allowing herself to be guided along by his arm.

An awkward silence fell on them both as they walked, the pall of tension falling over them as neither of them verbalized the thought on their minds. Though it was the afternoon, they met few other travelers on the desolate road. One human did notice him, walking in the opposite direction as him. Vaen’s grip on her robes tightened, his other hand slowly sliding over the pommel of his hilt. He paused in the middle of the road, his sapphire eyes gazing intensely into the merchant’s eyes, daring him. The merchant passed by, his eyes downcast.

By the time they had arrived at his destination, her body was sore and aching, the blood down her leg long dried. The blood elf looked confused, her eyes questioning him.

“…Why did you bring me here?” She pondered aloud.

The massive, battered gates to the Magister’s Terrace loomed over them, the heavy doors hanging on a hinge as a long abandoned battering ram lay abandoned by the wayside. An ominous air hung on the abandoned structure, the one beautiful, ornate stonework falling into ruin as the history of what had happened in the years deterred anyone from wandering inside.

Vaen wordlessly shoved her forward in reply, pushing her towards the broken gate and into the Terrace. The insides were pitch black, years of cobwebs adorning the pillars and corridors. They walked inside, their footsteps echoing through the darkness, reverberating on and on, hinting at the massive scale of the interior chambers. They walked until the sunlight from the outside died, replaced only by the haunting presence of the wartorn structure.

Vaen grabbed the small Sin’dorei lantern from her basket, shaking the arcane contraption until it sprung to a life, a small, unnatural white light flickering into existence, illuminating not much beyond their faces. He dropped his arm around her shoulder, sliding his hand into hers and clutching it tightly instead. “Don’t let go.” He muttered. “For your sake.”

He could hear her gulp as he led her through the winding halls, the small light illuminating the torn and dusty tapestries and curtains that once lined the halls. Snapped arrow shafts and broken spear heads littered the floor, their points long rusted away. His hand swung the lantern around as his eyes peered through the darkness; studying the disheveled furniture strewn across the chamber, disused demonic runes still faintly glowing on some of them.

He could feel her hand squeezing his as they walked. He could feel it, too. There was a haunting presence about this place, a heavy burden that made it difficult to breathe, and hard to swallow. A light mist blew through the room, visible as a low fog.

“T-This is an evil place...” She whispered. Somehow it felt right to keep her voice low. “I can feel it…”

Her grip tightened around his. He could see the faint glow of her emerald eyes as she peered around, careful not to move her head too fast, lest she disturb some dormant spirit. He could feel her body resisting him, her feet digging into the ground as she resisted going any further into the condemned Terrace.

“Move…” He growled.

“Tell me where you’re taking me, first.” She demanded in a whisper, her voice beginning to grow defiant. “If we’re found in here, it’d be a fate worse than…” She stopped her thought mid-sentence.

“Fine.” His fingers unwrapped from hers, releasing her from his grip. He walked ahead, the small lantern in his possession. He turned back for a moment. “You are a courageous one, to brave this place without any light…”

She stood dumbly in the darkness, her eyes transfixed on the white lantern flickering light on Vaen’s form. She watched as it glowed dimmer and dimmer as he walked forward. The goosebumps rose on her skin as she could sense… something dark watching her. It felt like there were eyes in the shadows, staring at her, the crushing silence was deafening.

“Wait!” She squealed, running after the source of light. “Don’t leave me…”

She followed him through the ruins. She began finding it odd that he knew his trail so well, artfully dodging broken blades and debris. It was almost as if… he knew this place well. Too well. The thought sent shivers up her spine as she blindly followed him, his hand holding hers.

They wandered through the maze of darkness of the ruins for what seemed like an eternity, before he led her into a large chamber. The eerie white light from the lantern danced on a small marble altar. The room seemed like it used to be a ceremonial chamber. The remnants of wax candles lined the walls of the room as dusty old tapestries hung from the walls. He placed the lantern on the altar in the center of the room. Three statues of Sin’dorei Magisters were on the edges of the room, all looking forward into the center. One had been badly damaged in the fighting, the tell-tale signs of shadow magic melting holes in the sculpture.

Vaen turned around to her as he placed the lantern on the altar. He studied her expressionless face for a few moments, watching her for any emotions. She was as blank as a canvas.

“What are you doing?” Her brows furrowed in confusion. She took a half-step backwards from him as she looked back at him, illuminated in the sickly white light. “Why did you bring me here?”

She yelped as he roughly grabbed her arm, yanking her towards him. Her squeak resounded through the chamber, her eyes widened in surprise at how far her voice traveled. But her surprise was soon replaced by a grimace of pain as she felt him wrenching her arm behind her back, cranking it. He shoved her face down onto the marble altar.

“What are you doing???” She repeated, her voice beginning to sound frantic. “You already had your fun! Stop!”

The lantern was mere inches from her face, the flames dancing in front of her eyes. She could see the crimson hue of long-dried blood on the marble altar, staining the ornate craftsmanship with the sickly puddle.

Now it made sense. She flailed in his grasp, twisting to and fro as she tried to free herself from his iron grip.

“Let me go!” She shouted, her voice carrying on and on through the corridors.

She froze. She could feel the bite of sharped steel digging into her skin. The point of his sword was aimed right below her head, underneath her long strands of blonde hair, the edge pressing against her spine. She trembled, her eyes widened in fear. She fought to still herself, control her convulsing as she felt the naked steel pushing down into her soft skin.

“W-W-why…” She sputtered out, unable to form a coherent sentence as fear gripped her body. The tears began welling in her eyes as she realized the cold truth. He had savagely raped her, and now he brought her here in this forsaken place to execute her, away from her family. She’d never see her sister again, her body lost in these ruins amid the carnage and ruins…

“P-P-please…” She ceased her squirming as she lay perfectly still on the altar. “D-Don’t hurt m-me…”

“I’m sorry, my lovely little angel.” There was a pain in his voice, a deep regret. “But no one can ever find out. I have too much to lose.”

Her heart sank as she listened to his words. It was all over. She wept openly, her tears dribbling down her cheeks, falling onto the altar.

“I’m sorry…” She whispered, her voice weak and soft, mired in defeat. “I’m sorry you’ll never feel what real love feels like. “ She looked back behind to him, her soft green eyes gazing into his. “I don’t hate you. I just feel sorry for you…” She turned away from him, back to the altar. She closed her eyes, as she braced herself for a quick death, for the cold embrace of oblivion…