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The Burning

By: Daishokaioshin
folder +S through Z › World of Warcraft
Rating: Adult ++
Chapters: 20
Views: 14,337
Reviews: 6
Recommended: 1
Currently Reading: 0
Disclaimer: I do not own World of Warcraft, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
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The Kill

Chapter Five

After taking some time to use the tailoring supplies they had brought with them to craft a new robe for Arsika, since her other robe had been made of materials not then available, the trio set off, heading back to Tarren Mill. They carried with them the caved-in head of an Orc Warlock, and a piece of sharp bone that was a fragment from a much larger horn. It was a piece of Sargeras, the Dark Titan, and yet as Aerai carried it reluctantly, she could feel no power in it. Whatever was once in the shard of bone had fled to a new vessel. As she walked, her emerald eyes shifted towards the red-haired leader of the trio. Arsika was smiling broadly, and practically skipping across the fields like a little girl. She seemed vibrant, healthy, full of energy, and not at all like a woman who had just been raped by a giant plant and who had ingested a disturbingly large quantity of Mana in the form of demon energy, and immediately followed this by killing a powerful Warlock and expending less effort to accomplish it than one might put into blinking one's eyes. Aerai shifted her gaze off of Arsika and returned to looking straight ahead, as she continued to march forward. Her thoughts on this issue remained her own, and she did not comment aloud on her concerns, even to her friends. However, she resolved that this issue bore closer scrutiny.

Arsika felt great -- superb, really. She felt better than she had in a very long time. Everything her senses perceived seemed more detailed, more real, as though she were experiencing it all for the first time. She marvelled at the rich hue of green the grass was, the blueness of the sky, and the sense of awareness she had in regards to her environment. The Blood Elf saw a mountain lion lurking off to her side, and when she turned her head to look at it, she gasped as she could see the sunlight reflecting off the big cat's coat, shimmering golden, rippling as muscles like liquid metal moved beneath the surface. She could make out each individual strand of hair, caught every twitch of the animal's ears, the way its black lips curled back to reveal a mouth full of sharp white fangs.

She looked into the lion's eyes, and admired the azure hue of those twin orbs. She stopped to stare at the lion, and the lion stared back. She was aware of her companions stopping as well, and of someone asking her something, but her attention was fixated on the beast creeping closer and closer, stalking her in plain sight. There was tension between them, as slowly the rest of the world faded out of existence for them, and they paid no attention to anything but that moment, and each other. Arsika could hear the lion's heart thudding in his chest, knew the lion could hear her own, and there was desire in them both for each other.

The lion desired to kill and eat her, but there was sexual desire in Mage and cat, oh yes. More than a little bit. The lion no doubt did not know why it felt that way, but there were currents in the air, carrying the scent of something familiar, something comforting, something which was a part of life, and which the lion dealt with on a daily basis. It was something the lion wanted desperately to embrace, to possess, and to be possessed by. As her companions shouted warnings distantly in the background, wordless echoes that Arsika paid no heed to, the lion finally pounced, hooked claws extended, mouth agape, ready to kill its prey. Ready to make love to her. Ready to take all it could of that something in Arsika's gaze that drew him to her. Arsika threw her arms wide, open to embrace the animal, and as their eyes met one last time, the lion saw too late what it was that had been so familiar, so nostalgic inside of the elf woman.

It was Death.

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Aerai and Arrwynn stood by and watched as their long-time friend kneeled next to the lion as it lay on the ground. One side of its body was completely charred black. The eye on that side had turned milky white as it was cooked. The smell of burning hair, and meat filled the air, but the lion was still alive. The burned side was down on the grass, and Arsika was stroking her hands over the soft pelt of the animal as it quivered in what must have been horrendous pain, and breathed shallowly. The elf petted the dying predator and made soothing noises, as she luxuriated in the feel of the animal's fur, and the sensation of life slowly leaking out of the beast. She could feel with her hands the slowing of the heart as it began to fail, the lungs filling and emptying less and less frequently, until finally the cat lay still and did not move again.

Arsika continued to kneel there, petting the cat, until Aerai said, "Come on. We should get back before dark." The red-head sighed and nodded, climbing back to her feet and turning to stride purposefully towards Tarren Mill. Quite noticeably, they were troubled no further by any animal on their journey. Aerai was silent as they walked, and Arrwynn mimicked her, though their reasons for doing so were entirely different.

Before now, there had always been a subtle sort of attraction between Arsika and Arrwynn, as well as between Arrwynn and Aerai, and Aerai and Arsika. All three of them had desired each other. It was strange to other people, perhaps, to have such a desire in a member of one's own gender, even when one is most assuredly not interested in having sex with such. But to the Blood Elves, as connected as they were, as sensitive as they were to the magic present in each other, it seemed perfectly natural to hunger for someone. It was acting on that hunger that was looked upon less favorably. Unless one willingly gives one's energy, taking Mana from another Blood Elf was strictly forbidden, not only by law, but also by culture and conscience. Those who would steal power from another of their kind were parasites, monsters, and typically became the Wretched, twisted mockeries of Elves that live only to feed.

But presently, even though Arrwynn could feel vast quantities of Mana surging in Arsika, more Mana than she had ever felt from her before, her attraction was not increased according to the greater energy. Instead, after she was informed by Aerai what had gone on while she was unconcious, she felt great concern for her friend. Great concern, but also great fear. The power in Arsika was dark -- darker than a starless night -- and she feared that darkness more than anything, because she knew who it belonged to. She didn't know how Aerai was handling the knowledge so calmly, but Arrwynn could scarcely stand to be in Arsika's presence. When they arrived in Tarren Mill, and turned in the head and the horn fragment to Duskingdawn, and each received thirty gold pieces in payment, she didn't even bat an eye at the incredible sum, but merely excused herself and headed away from there, ostensibly to get her equipment repaired, but mostly just to get away. Behind her, as she retreated into the deepening twilight, she could hear Duskingdawn rapidly making excuses for why she and Arsika had to leave immediately to a room in the inn and spend time alone. Clearly whatever Arrwynn could feel in the power that had possessed Arsika, the Advisor either did not recognize, or paid no heed to.

When the two Blood Elves vanished into the inn, Arrwynn plopped herself down next to the barn, shuddering in relief. She felt like a blade had been poised over her, prepared to drop at any moment. She felt like just by leaving Arsika's immediate vicinity she had been snatched from the jaws of death itself. More than anything, however, she felt the desire to flee from Tarren Mill, flee from the Hillsbrad Foothills entirely, go somewhere, anywhere, where she could never be found by her friend. She desperately wanted to be anywhere but here. And yet something made her stay. She tilted her head back and watched the night sky, as stars twinkled overhead, and slowly her emotions calmed, and her thoughts cleared, and she lost herself in the darkness and the sound of nocturnal animals coming to life.

Meanwhile, in the second floor of the inn, in the room that was being used by Arsika, Duskingdawn and the red-head herself were in the middle of passionately kissing each other, and had only waited until they were out of sight of those downstairs before embracing and allowing hands to roam over the form of the woman held close to them. They broke away momentarily, and Arsika whispered out huskily, "Are we ready?" Duskingdawn smiled and could only breathlessly nod in response. Then their heads moved forwards simultaneously, and their lips moved instinctively to capture each other, and the kiss resumed, this time with even more fervor, as Arsika prepared to take her reward.

---------------End Chapter Five---------------
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