The Legacy

A gentle mist hovered behind the opaque window of The Scarlet Raven.

The barkeep glared through the glass at the tranquilly swirling haze with unmasked hatred on his face. As a symbol to all the misery and mayhem the finding of the scythe had brought over Duskwood, the fog seemed to be gloating over his misfortune. Forcing his eyes from the window, the barkeep eyed the tavern wearily and could not hold back a drawn out sigh. The murmur of talk and the smiling faces of his tipsy neighbours were nothing but a bittersweet memory now. Customers were gone; none could put aside the fear and the pain for lost loved ones which hung over Darkshire as vividly as the mist.

Even the travellers were running scarce lately.


The old and crooked boards of the stairs interrupted barkeep's comforting memories with a loud crack, drawing his attention to the figure descending them.

“The Dark Sphere scum. Fits perfectly along with the Worgen and the Undead here”, he thought as he eyed the elven figure emerging from the shadows of the stairway. The elf wore red armour with distinctive shoulder pads covered in spikes and a characteristically dark hair tied up in a pony-tail.

The elf peered around the tavern, as if scanning every detail in silence. The barkeep held his breath for a moment, hoping silently that Shagrath Sinistershot’s business was not in this tavern. After seeing nothing out of the ordinary, Shagrath made his way through the tavern towards the door. Muttering a curse, the barkeep began to rub the counter with a worn rag, falling back to his memories.




Shagrath’s eyes narrowed as his eyes ran over the letter in his hand over and over again. Several weeks earlier, he had received a very similar letter. Same fabric, same crisp handwriting and a crescent moon painted in blood. The letter couple of weeks back had been short, and straight to the point:“The traitor Dawn has been dealt with” and a signature by The Blood Red Sandman. Shagrath had put a bounty on Razenor the Dawn’s head, and the fact that someone who had accomplished this dangerous task wished to stay anonymous, claiming neither the bounty nor Shagrath’s gratitude, troubled Shagrath.

And now he was seeking an audience.

Shagrath lifted his gaze from the letter and peered towards Beggar’s Haunt, the place where The Sandman was expecting him at that very moment. Nothing made Shagrath more suspicious than not knowing the motives behind the actions of those he dealt with. He would have rather trusted his nemesis whose motives were clear to him, than his most loyal follower whose motives were shrouded.

But now the stakes were high enough, he thought and started to pace through Darkshire, lost in deep thought. He had lost what he had worked so long and hard for, and there was a lot to do to claim it back: he’d have to start from the scratch again. The plans were underway, and this anonymous benefactor could prove very useful, perhaps even necessary for accomplishing them. Being able to take big risks had got him far before, and the wave of loathing that swept over him as he realised his reluctance to take them lately might be due to him getting old made his tread considerably longer and faster.

Shagrath halted at the timeworn gates of the entrance to the Beggar’s Haunt. Bracing himself for the likely assassination attempt, he was suddenly overcome by a sensation he had felt growing for quite some time. He felt so very tired, as worn out as the rusty bars of the long forgotten gate beside him. For a brief moment, the blade of an assassin flashed in Shagrath’s mind, promising rest and gentle oblivion. Shagrath shook his head sharply with a sigh, stepping through the gate he fended off feelings of weakness.

There was work to be done.

A hooded figure stood with his back to the rest of the Haunt. A mask hid the lower portion of his face, so that only his faintly glowing eyes were visible. A single, blood red stripe was painted vertically under each eye, disappearing into the mask. Two blades were strapped to his back, a cruel knife hidden beneath his cloak, one strapped to each thigh. The figure was not incredibly tall, and somewhat slender. Androgynous.

There came the sound of footsteps in the distance, and slowly the Sandman turned about. A tall and dark man approached. His hair was pulled back into a strict ponytail. His ears were pointed; the right ear bore a notch in it, and a single gold ring. Shagrath Sinistershot. Behind the mask, the Sandman smiled. Shagrath, however, merely regarded him with a quizzical eye as he came to a halt at the circle of benches and stone.

"It is good to see you came.." The Sandman murmured, bending at the waist to perform a low, graceful bow, that was somehow patronizing. Shagrath narrowed his eyes slightly.
"Curiosity is rarely a good quality... but this time it got the better of me," Shagrath answered. The Sandman chuckled quietly.
"I called you here... because I wished for you to know my true face," the Sandman answered. If curiosity had won him an audience with Shagrath, then he would try to satisfy it now. Shagrath seemed to pause, peering at the Sandman for a moment before speaking.
"The true face of The Sandman...?" he repeated. The hooded figure gave a nod slowly, Shagrath's eyes widening ever so slightly in response. The Sandman seemed to drift slightly closer.
"Most see me as they wish to... Or as what they fear. The power of suggestion has amazing success... But you... should know the truth," the Sandman continued. Shagrath remained silent, seeming to listen intently. Slowly, the Sandman lifted a slender hand, tugging the mask away from his mouth. However, he kept his head at an angle so that his hood still cast a shadow over most of his face. Shagrath's eyes narrowed as he peered into the shadows with a cool gaze, standing straight and tall. Unphased. The Sandman reached up with both of his hands then, sliding them under the hood and pulling it back in a single, fluid motion. A stream of silver hair spilled out from beneath the hood as he lifted his head, a smile flashed to Shagrath. The dark haired Elf blinked once, twice. He leant very slightly backwards for a brief moment, perhaps in disbelief, before narrowing his eyes heavily, examining the face thoroughly with a quiet 'Hmmm....'

The revealed figure chuckled quietly, smiling at Shagrath as he stepped closer.
"Have you nothing to say to me, Shagrath?" Fenuviel asked.
A pause.
"My deceased apprentice has been spreading fear amongst my enemies and solving my problems for me... This scenario did not cross my mind..." Shagrath responded. Fenuviel smirked slightly.
"It is for you, yes... but not perhaps for the reason you think. It is not only for you," Fenuviel explained. I'm not doing this to help you. "Perhaps I should explain in full, what this is for..."
"I doubt it is pointless for me to remind you that I've rarely cared for what the motives are behind actions, as long as the actions benefit me," Shagrath responded. Fenuviel smiled inwardly. Of course. "Perhaps you should explain though, indeed..."
"But is this fully benefiting you... we shall see," Fenuviel murmured before taking another step closer, drawing in a breath, getting ready to speak.
"You once spoke of dogs in a cage. But there is another, smaller cage than the one you spoke of, with much fewer dogs. This is the cage of your heart. And these dogs are wolves in fact, and there are only two. One is love, and one is hate. Whichever you feed will be the strongest, will survive. You have lived now by starving the first.. but it still lives. Withered, skeletal... This is why you are a monster. You have no balance, only hate. This is also why you corrupt and destroy all that you touch. Hate is all consuming. And this is why I am stronger than you.
"To hate is easy. It is easy to become ruled by it, to create reasons to hate. Far more difficult is to learn to love, to make yourself open to pain. But you learn more that way. It is more difficult, naturally so. But even one who is ruled by love is not immune to hate. And so I feed them both, but let love remain the strongest. I refuse to take the easy road out.
"Are you satisfied now, master? I have finally awakened. Truly, fully. Awakened. And I am no longer your apprentice, Shagrath. Never again will I look upon you as my master. I am your equal. I am your better. You claimed I had earned your respect long ago, but you never did show it. I was always your apprentice, and you even called me so. But no longer. I have shed this title.
"Are you satisfied? Teron is. You are no longer the Dark General, Shagrath. I am."

There was a moment of silence. However, Shagrath seemed to be wearing a small smirk that told Fenuviel his words hadn't had any of the impact he had wanted them to. Unconsciously he clenched his fists, though still he kept his gaze calm and controlled. At least Shagrath had let him speak his part without interruption. As Shagrath drew in a breath, Fenuviel realized it was his turn. A pang of dread clutched at his stomach, but he forced himself to stand still and listen.

"Death has taught you much, but it has missed out one lesson of utmost importance. Feeding the wolves equally might work for some time... but eventually the wolves will turn against each other. And equally strong, it will be the destruction of them both and the cage as a whole," Shagrath began, speaking softly, though his tone was still cool. "Wolves are vicious creatures... Love and hate are even more so. They do not only fuel our actions, but control them. The more confident you are about the leashes of your wolves, the greater your self-deception is. Control is strength. the only way to gain some control over your own cage is to have one wolf strong enough to rule over it. There is no strength in your balance, there is only a bomb waiting, for someone cunning enough to ignite it. To turn the wolves against each other... against you."

"It is constant turmoil, yes. I did not say it was easy, quite the opposite. I never said I fed them equally. I said that I left one the stronger. But I starve neither, as you do. Doing so would be to lose perspective of one side, and I wish to know both. And the bomb... it was already ignited, by someone as cunning. You. But I survived, and returned to free myself of you," Fenuviel responded.

Shagrath narrowed his eyes once again, staring at Fenuviel. Fenuviel only did the same, standing straight and firm. He refused to back down.

"It is not only your hand that can feed these wolves... Sparing the one gives others a chance to feed the weaker, from the outside of the cage," a pause. "Free?"
"I shall never call you Master again, Shagrath. I am not your apprentice anymore. I am closing the door to you," he responded. Shagrath chuckled very quietly at this, a small grin tugging up one corner of his lips. Fenuviel grit his teeth. "I have learned to survive you, but can you survive yourself? You are a danger enough to yourself," Fenuviel added. At this comment, Shagrath's eyes widened slightly, as did his grin. Fenuviel remained clenching his hands into fists. Nothing infuriated him quite as much as Shagrath's smile, when he thought he had made his point clear, and knew that in any moment, Shagrath was going to crush it all somehow.

"I must admit, I see noticeable advancement... My last lesson was not a failure after all..." Shagrath mused. It was all Fenuviel could do now to contain his anger. The last lesson. It had been the final one. The final straw. "So you've gained the favour of Teron and the Soulblighter in my absence?" Shagrath continued, chuckling slightly, still wearing that awful grin. "You fail to see how completely irrelevant that is..."
Fenuviel regarded Shagrath coolly, his eyes narrowing slightly as he listened. A pang of fear ran down his spine at these words. Had he missed something, or was Shagrath merely trying to make him think he had?
"Your apprenticeship had close to nothing to do with the Dark Sphere, Ataris, or Teron. You begged me to take you as my apprentice, once at the gates of Ironforge, and you swore to continue with the training until I was convinced you were ready. Your oath was to me, not to Teron. You're my apprentice until I'm finished with you, and have fulfilled my part of the bargain."
These words hit Fenuviel with a force enough to make him take a step back. He blinked quickly, a sudden panic flaring inside and causing his thoughts to be turned into a chaotic vortex. No. No. No! I'm not yours! You've fulfilled your end of the bargain many times over! Let me go! Not this time! I won! I won! No!
Shagrath's voice pierced his thoughts, forcing him to look back towards him.
"Was that all, Apprentice...?" Shagrath called. Fenuviel glowered at him.
"You really think you have any place left as my master, Shagrath? You see me as your apprentice, and yet I have still become your superior. Teron has seen me fit to surpass you, does his word mean nothing to you?" Fenuviel spat quickly. Shagrath's response remained cool, and to the point.
"Teron does not decide the ranks of the Sphere,"
"But I have won his favour, and Ataris' word trumps yours within the Sphere," Fenuviel tried again. Though he managed to keep most of his composure, he knew he was failing. The one thing he had forgotten... It wasn't as simple as simply breaking the oath. To do so would break all the others he'd made with Shagrath. Shagrath would have no reason not to destroy him and all he loved. Damn it all.

"If the Soulblighter has had more uses for you, carrying my rank in my absence, I'd expect nothing less of him than to give it to you. As for Teron's favour... it can be very... wavering," Shagrath continued, a sly smirk touching his lips again. Fenuviel stood quite rigidly now, his eyes barely hiding his rage. Shagrath seemed to notice it, his smirk turning into a faint grin. "I've experienced it myself. And I can assure you that counting on Teron to back you up is like jumping off a cliff and keeping your hopes on the winds to carry you to safety..."
"Perhaps. Or perhaps it was a matter of counting too much on yourself," Fenuviel shot. Did you ever think of that? That perhaps you really were unworthy?
"Is your outburst over, and are you prepared to continue with your training?" Shagrath asked. Fenuviel closed his eyes for a moment to make sure that he didn't say anything stupid. Shagrath knew just want and when to say things that could anger him.
"I do not know what you could hope to teach me, when there are lessons you have yet to learn yourself. I warn you, Shagrath. Be careful," You arrogant git. Darkness can only destroy. It'll come for you sooner or later.
"None of us are perfect. Yet with the help of another, certain things can be taught that could not be learned alone," Shagrath answered. Fenuviel glared at him, seething.
"You will always be alone, Shagrath. In the end, you will always be alone. And it is no one's fault but your own," he replied, his tone of voice no longer hiding his fury. Shagrath's response did nothing to help this.
"You make it sound like such a bad thing," he smirked. "In the end... we are all alone," Shagrath added. He began to turn away, as though to leave.
"It's a choice!" Fenuviel snapped. The heavy footfalls of Shagrath's boots stopped as he paused.
"I will leave you to gather yourself... and to... adjust once again," he murmured. His tone of voice was one that had always greatly bothered Fenuviel. Superior, all knowing, matter of fact. As though his word was law. It always was. He always had the last word. "Be careful you pick the right wolf," he added.
"And be cautious of our own," Fenuviel growled. Shagrath's eyes narrowed slightly, but Fenuviel saw the hint of a grin upon his face as the tall Elf turned away, moving out of the Haunt. Fenuviel was breathing heavily now, trying to calm himself. Only after Shagrath was out of sight did he unclench his fists. Idly, he rubbed his sore palms. If he hadn't been wearing gloves, he was sure he would have drawn blood. Damn it all.

Revelations

Jaqien slid down from Sable's saddle, his gaze resting upon a figure solitary figure clothed in red. Silver hair spilled over his back as he sat hunched before a stone platform, resting his head and arms against it. Jaqien approached hesitantly, his voice full of concern as he spoke.

"Fenu? What are you doing in this place? And... why..." he began, reaching out a hand as he reached the Elf, lifting Fenu's head up a little as he stepped around to face him. Fenuviel clenched his hands into fists, pounding the stone before he allowed his face to be lifted, looking up at Jaqien with a tortured expression, his eyes full of rage. Jaqien almost flinched at the look.
"I met with him today. Shagrath. He won... Damn it ALL!" he growled, his tone full of bitterness. Jaqien wrapped his hand around one of Fenuviel's, softening the blows against the stone, his eyes widening at the words.
"Shagrath... you did.. what? Fenu, tell me..." Jaqien answered, his tone cold as he spoke Shagrath's name. The man knelt down, still holding Fenuviel's hand in his as he tried to instill some calm into the Elf. Fenuviel breathed out through his nose before answering, his lips drawn tightly together, gritting his teeth.

"I sent a letter... as the Sandman to him. To reveal my face to him. To show that I had taken his position. To prove... To tell him that I was not his apprentice any longer..." Fenuviel half sighed, half growled. Jaqien himself let out a slow sigh, looking into Fenuviel's face with compassion and understanding. As Fenuviel met his gaze, he swallowed hard, his form still trembling slightly with barely contained anger.
"It was always the intention wasn't it? But was this the time, Fenu? Were you strong enough? I wish you had told me..."
"That bastard... the one point I could not counter... the one thing I hadn't thought of... hadn't remembered... hadn't... considered..."
Jaqien jerked his head up slightly, his eyes narrowing.
"And... what was that? There is nothing he can hold over you, Fenu. You've slipped the leash. You've proven yourself. Unless..." Jaqien grew quiet, looking at Fenuviel steadily. The Elf cast him a glance. "You wanted a lot from him, Fenu. I know that..." he murmured before Fenuviel cut him off.

"I.... I promised. Vowed... to let him train me until he saw me worthy to be released... It never had anything to do with Teron... or Ataris... just him and me..." Fenuviel sighed.
"Fenu... Fenuviel...."
"It doesn't matter if I am the General. Or if I killed Ataris and claimed myself the Darkmaster! Damn him!!" Fenuviel suddenly shouted, growling, his voice raising.

Jaqien gave an intake of breath, slowly sliding his hand from Fenuviel's.
"Does he deserve honour? Does he deserve obedience? Does he deserve this damned vow to be kept?" Jaqien questioned, turning and walking over to the pillar at the far end of the stone platform. He turned, leaning against it, looking towards the defeated Elf and speaking more quietly. "I swore something to myself once, Fenu. I swore I would never do something, or ever ask it of you, because it would hurt you... damage you.." he began. Fenuviel lifted his gaze to peer at the man, questioning. "All vows have a finite end. Even vows until death end with the end of life. My vow has ended, now."

In the back of his mind, Fenuviel knew what it was before Jaqien spoke it.

"There is only one solution, Fenu. Shagrath will never release you from that vow while he lives. So, if you will not abandon it yourself..."

Fenuviel lowered his gaze.

"...Then Shagrath must die."

[[Note: This was written by the player of Jaqien]]

All things come to he who waits.


"... Then Shagrath must die."

Jaqien tried to keep his tone light and nonchalant, as if the idea was simply a logical deduction borne of the information to hand. As if it hadn't been a force guiding him for months. As if he didn't care, didn't want that particular outcome as desperately as he had come to do.

"This isn't the sort of situation that can exist forever, Fenu, with us all circling round in some never-ending dance. This will end in death and tragedy one way or another, for us if not for him. Forgive me, but I have a vested interest in this, and that is in you remaining alive, mush'al. And in me being there to see it."

Months of waiting, of thinking, of plotting, of planning. Months of engineering talks with people, of placing ideas in their heads, rallying forces, extracting promises. Vows, if you like. So many people, now, eager to join with him in eradicating Shagrath from the face of this earth. Yes, Jaqien had made a vow to himself, not to lay a hand on Shagrath personally, not to be the one to inflict the inevitable pain of his death upon Fenuviel. And there were times beyond measure when he'd simply bitten his words back rather than try to pour honeyed encouragement in Fenuviel's ear when the elf raged in incandescent fury against his 'master'. However, Jaqien had never broken his vow, never attacked Shagrath directly, never encouraged Fenuviel to.
But he was prepared to, now.

He crossed back towards Fenuviel, kneeling in front of him.
"I'll do it, Fenu. I'll do it, for you ..."
That's what he's openied his mouth to say, but before a word could get out, Fenuviel spoke, his head still lowered.
"It must be by my hand. No-one else's but mine."
This was more, far more than he'd expected to hear. The elf seemed to be in a state of numbed rage still, all emotion or feeling locked away. Jaqien reached out a hand to one of Fenuviel's, laying it over the other's, letting it rest there until he slowly felt the fist unclench beneath him, the fingers straighten. He wove his own between them, paused, waiting.

"I cannot let anyone else do it. I owe him that ..." Fenuviel's words were murmured, but still rang out clear over the small grove. Jaqien squeezed their interlocked fingers, looking the elf full in the face as he lifted his head in response.
"Please don't attack him alone, or expect me to agree to let you, Fenu, mush'al. I'm not going to let you suffer that alone."
And I want to see the bastard die, he thought to himself.
"And, if anything goes wrong, I'm not going to let him take you from me. It's not him, or you. It's him, or us."

That was enough to say. If Jaqien tried to say anything else, he risked showing the enormity of his true feelings, and he had no wish to hurt Fenuviel by the strength of them. The air felt fresher, sounds sharper, images clearer. A veil was to be lifted from his world, and from Fenuviel's. It would not free Fenu, but at least he would have a chance to live for himself and not as the puppet of another. It would be hard, the aftermath would be painful, but still, Jaqien's mood was one of exultation. Now was not the time for celebration, though, and he simply leant forward, wrapping his arms about the elf, and closed his eyes, smiling against the other's hair.

Wolf Hunt

Fenuviel found himself back in Beggar's Haunt. It was becoming a place he increasingly disliked, or at least found discomforting. He hadn't realized that tonight would only add to that. He had heard of the Cult of the Void, and seen them the day Shagrath had handed them over a young Elf to be 'sacrificed', in trade of one of the Sphere the Cult had captured. It hadn't been easy to get in contact with them, and he was still unsure if it would work. He had received a letter in response, but still, he worried. Could they be trusted? He wasn't ready to answer that just yet either. But still, he waited, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, watching the entrance from a far. His slender form was clad in the red armor of the Sandman once again, but his hood and mask were pulled down, revealing his face fully.

His heart jumped as he saw movement through the foliage. Fenuviel stood straighter, craning his neck slightly to catch a glimpse. He hadn't really had a chance to see any of them closely during the... 'sacrifice', nor did he know which one was Sardon. The Forsaken as it were, this time was clothed in much finer robes than the simplistic dark ritual garments. He took his time in approaching the Elf, keeping a slow, steady walk. In the same way Shagrath had affected him upon their first meeting, Sardon gave Fenuviel the impression of power. Or at the very least, that he was someone not to be trifled with. Or perhaps it was simply the fact that Fenu was not fond of Forsaken in the least. Ever since Shagrath had made him investigate the bowels of Undercity, and seeing the effect it had on Shagrath himself...

Fenuviel shook himself, finding Sardon having stopped in front of him. Quite close. Fenuviel paused, clearing his throat.

"Thank you for coming," he murmured, giving a polite bow. He knew that somewhere along the way of the Sphere and the Cult meeting, a way of communication had been established. He wasn't sure how, but he hoped that his words would somehow make sense to the Forsaken in front of him. To his mild surprise, Sardon nodded.

"I have been summoned," he responded. Fenuviel narrowed his eyes slightly, a bit confused for a moment. It was as though hearing two voices at once, at first. He heard both the harsh Orcish syllables, and also the meanings. "Speak," Sardon continued, whether it was encouragement or a demand was left to be seen. The voice became smoother, as Fenuviel found the less he tried to focus on it, the simpler the meanings were. Not quite hearing, simply... understanding. The Forsaken began to fiddle with something, and Fenuviel closed his eyes sharply as a sudden bright light shone through the night's darkness. Opening his eyes again quickly, he found himself surrounded by a pillar of light. He blinked rapidly, looking towards Sardon in confusion, though the Forsaken merely nodded at him, possibly smiling.

"I have a request... My name is Fenuviel Blackboots," he murmured, but paused. Sardon began to circle him. Appraising him. Fenuviel stood perfectly, rigidly still, keeping his eyes forward until Sardon had returned to stand in front of him. He rested his eyes upon him then, letting out an almost inaudible, but shaky breath.

"What is your request, infidel," Sardon asked as he turned to face the Elf again.

"You should remember my master, Shagrath Sinistershot?" Fenuviel asked after a pause. He knew that they must still remember, but he had to make certain.

"We know this name, yes," Sardon answered simply.

Fenuviel nodded, taking in a breath before continuing.
"The time has come for his reign to end. And I'd like your help in making sure that it is permanent,"
"Ahh... permanent. This can be arranged," Sardon replied.
"It is my desire to deliver the final blow. But I cannot... subdue him myself,"

Fenuviel almost smiled for a brief moment, but he continued. "What do you offer the Void in return?"

Fenuviel paused again. He had guessed this question would be asked, but alas, his knowledge of the Cult was quite limited. He began to worry for a moment what would happen if he could not offer something satisfactory. It was hard not to be prejudiced, and to think that Sardon might eat him then and there if he didn't answer quickly and correctly.

"And what can I offer... I must confess I know not what else I can offer you besides him, when he is dead, and to take his place for... further meetings," Fenuviel replied. He began to realize what it was about Sardon that bothered him. His face. That almost expressionless, dead, face... That he could not read or judge. And so the answer somewhat surprised him. Toneless.
"There will be a payment. Made by you. At a later point,"

Fenuviel remained silent for a moment. The words sent shivers through him that he did not find in any way pleasant. He did not like making vows that were unclear, especially not with Forsaken.
"I wonder if I am permitted to ask what that may be...? If there is something you wish of the Sphere, then please say it," he asked finally. Of the Sphere... please... not me. Am I trading one vow for another that I'll regret later...?

"You will simply owe us. Exactly what will be decided when we need whatever you have to give,"

Fenuviel narrowed his eyes slightly, obviously not entirely comfortable with the entire idea.

"Even the most insignificant being can topple mountains when put in the right spot at the right time," Sardon continued. Slowly, Fenuviel nodded.

"I confess I do not like making promises when it is not clear what it is that is required of me... but this is a matter of extreme importance," Fenuviel confided.
"Of course. You would not have made contact otherwise," Sardon answered simply.

Fenuviel gave a slight nod and a quiet, wry laugh.

"We shall assist you, bringer of nightmares, simply because we like your handiwork,"
Fenuviel looked up to Sardon, searching for a moment. Did they... know of the Sandman then? He wasn't sure how they could. How such news would reach, his victims having been of the Alliance. But he had a feeling that Sardon and the Cult knew a lot, and had ways of finding things out that he didn't feel like questioning.

"It is... most appreciated," Fenuviel responded. Sardon nodded, and began to move again, stepping past Fenuviel to stand at the other end of the stone platform. It was the position the Darkmaster had always taken during meetings in the Haunt. Though he doubted this fact was known to Sardon, he did suspect that the Forsaken had taken that spot for the same reasons. To be in higher position, the position of power. Fenuviel made no attempt to upstage him.

"Will it be a problem if he is only partial, or otherwise damaged?" Sardon inquired.

Fenuviel's lips quirked up ever so slightly as he laughed inwardly at how calmly the Forsaken stated such a question. While he almost wanted them to 'damage' Shagrath, he gave a shake of his head.

"It would be... most preferable if he is left intact, at least until I am through with him," he answered. He wanted it to be purely his own moment, when Shagrath died. Not to let it be corrupted by prior wounds or binds. This will be my kill.
"So it shall be," Sardon nodded. "One request I do have. The place of execution,"

"The Grove is where I deliver Dreamers their nightmares... if anywhere, it'd best be there. Is that a problem?" Fenuviel asked, and then realized his mistake. He had misjudged the words as it was difficult to tell quite when the Forsaken was questioning or stating. He wanted to chose the place. Quickly, Fenuviel spoke again. "Take him where you wish, and I shall be there,"

It was agreed upon.

"So be it then," Fenuviel gave a curt nod.

"Good. Then the deal is struck," Sardon replied swiftly, and after a moment, continued. "It is not... ideal for you to involve many others of your order. If this happens, his life will no longer be yours to take," he pointed out. Fenuviel didn't bother to ask why. It didn't matter. He didn't want any others of the Sphere to be there in any case.
"No others of my order shall be present. This is not for them, only myself,"
"Excellent," Sardon nodded, taking a step to the side. "I will depart now, infidel.... and prepare what comes next."

Fenuviel took a step as well, his lips parting as he drew in a quick breath, obviously having one last thought to voice.
"If I may... I will bring one other. He is not of the Sphere, but he shall find no rest until Shagrath is slain..." Jaqien must witness this.

"One," Saron responded simply.

Fenuviel gave a bow.
"May the Shadows hide and protect you."

"And may you die standing."

Exhausted.

“At the times of change, stakes are placed and alliances formed. Well placed investments can lead to great profits” Shagrath murmured through a soft cloud of pipe-smoke, eyeing Lysle Draknar with a calculating gaze. Lysle nodded with a stern expression.
“What can I do?” he replied simply.
“I need an army”, Shagrath replied, expressionless. Lysle swallowed, blinking.
“Sir, you know I’m no foot soldier…” he began, but Shagrath stopped him with a wave of his hand.
“One soldier wouldn’t be worth as much time as I’ve wasted on you”, he narrowed his eyes, and Lysle nodded, listening. “No, I need you to use your connections… Spread the word. Contact those who are able, and whose greed can be trusted… Promise them wealth, and more importantly, my gratitude…” Shagrath continued.
“It shall be done, Sir”, Lysle nodded; releasing some air he had forgotten in his lungs for a longer time that was pleasant.
“I suggest you make this your first priority… There might ever be no need for bloodshed… but the time when I will need a force to stand behind me, will come soon. And there’s a high chance things will get… messy.” Shagrath added with a slight smirk, turning towards the door.

So weary.

”As always, I’ve come to discuss business", Shagrath glanced at the puzzled faces of his company, having just taken off his low drawn hat. The Dark Sphere Cabalists Drynn Alexandros and Krevnasil van Silth - who had been up to this point unaware of who they had sit down with - stared at his face, blinking.
“I’m listening”, Drynn murmured, recognising the face from the past. Offering them a slight grin, Shagrath pushed onward speaking in soft and low tones, almost like a whisper yet stern and audible.
“I have returned, and you can imagine my surprise when I found the order in its current state”, Shagrath mused, narrowing his eyes and taking a sip from his mead, “shattered”, he added.
“That is quite a fitting term”, Drynn nodded, peering at Shagrath.
“When I left, Etarios was a traitor…” Shagrath carried on.
“He was?” Drynn’s eyes widenened.
“Yeah, I was there with you… to give him a lesson”, Krevnasil nodded at Shagrath.
“How did this happen, I do not care… but I do not intend to stand by and watch”, Shagrath continued, his face stern and rigid.
“What do you have planned?” Drynn inquired, after a nod.
“I have raised quite a force already…” Shagrath replied.
“Oh?” Drynn leaned back in his chair slightly.
“I did not dare to risk trusting only the help from the inside the order… I couldn’t know what kind of treatment Etarios has been giving you… His association with the Burning Legion is well known, and their capability to suppress free will, effective” Shagath kept going expressionless.
“He and Fenuviel have been very distant as of late, little influence has had an impact, if any.” Drynn cleared. “Though they might not step down so easily….” he added.
“Fenuviel is under my grip”, Shagrath said, waving his hand dismissively, “The reason why I’ve come here is to minimize the casualties. Consider yourselves the saviours of those members of the Sphere who you manage to sway to stand behind me, they will all be spared”, Shagrath stated coldly, gulping down the rest of his mead and rising up from his chair slowly.

So worn out.

“I’ve summoned you here to make an offer”, Shagrath’s voice exploded, spreading and creeping even into the most distant corner of the Beggar’s Haunt. Before him stood a crowd of stern faces and black tabards with eight-pointed white symbols on them. “Some of you may know who I am; some of the newer ones might not. My name is Shagrath Sinistershot, former Darkmaster of the Sphere. I was exiled for a failure during an attack which I lead against the alliance leaders… I was betrayed from the inside. Now I have returned, and found the Sphere shattered, divided and weak. A once mighty order that was spoken of in fearful whispers, has turned into a disorientated group without a direction or purpose”, Shagrath preached, standing rigid and tall, wearing his distinctive blood-red armour. The murmur spread over the crowd, faces turning, some nodding eagerly, some peering at Shagrath suspiciously.
“All the preparations for lifting the Sphere to its former glory have been made, I’ve rebuilt my connections, contacted those who owe me and made sure they are backing me up… What remains to be done, is the establishment of strong chain of commands, turning those I can under my command… and disposing of the rest”

“My offer is simple: Join me, place yourselves under my command, and your investment will be multiplied”, Shagrath’s gaze swept over the faces as approving mutter resounded through the Haunt.

Hollow.

Success, the feeling once so addicting to Shagrath, one he had grown to seek out of the habit, had lost its edge. The rush was gone. Obedience, respect and esteem that he was receiving once again had never left him so cold before. He regarded the bottom of his empty flagon with a bitter glare, even the mead that had brought him much comfort along the years, tasted like ash. There was still a lot to be done, but no passion left to do it. The shadows had faded for now, they were pleased. The voice had been strong, demanding, but now that Shagrath had obeyed, it had pulled back, satisfied. Being left alone, being able to hear only his own questions and doubts, brought up the feelings of emptiness and colourlessness even stronger. After fighting the voice for so long, the realisation that some part of him missed it was devastating.

Glancing around the tavern, from the corner of his eye he spotted a white figure entering it - one he knew very well. Dressed in a snow white robe, with her hair just as white floating around her, she was the brightest spot of colour in Shagrath’s eyes.

“Want to go for a walk?”

“Stranglethron is lovly at night”, the Lady continued with a cheerful smile. For a moment Shagrath’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, as he calculated her with his gaze. Seeing no signs of ulterior motives, he nodded with a grin.

“Sure”, he replied, chugging down the rest of his mead.

“That hat looks horrid on you…” Neferi said eyeing Shagrath with a quiet snicker as they paced the curvy road through the jungle of Stranglethorn.
“The majority of people have no sense of style whatsoever… So would a stylish disguise serve its purpose to the fullest?” replied Shagrath with a smirk, raising his eyes to the roof of leaves and branches above.
“Ah… an excellent point”, she snickered in reply, raising her eyes to the sky as well.
“A lovly night”, she sighed quietly. Glancing at Shagrath she added,”Don’t you agree?”
“Can’t really see from here”, Shagrath said narrowing his eyes at the treetops blocking the sight to the sky. “I’ll tell you when we get somewhere with a better view”, he added.


Both were uncomfortably aware where the road led to. Both knew the other’s thoughts were the same awkward ones, even though they talked cheerfully of trivial matters. Shagrath had more to deal with than only the uncomfortable memories triggered by same road they had walked once so long ago. He had felt it growing slowly ever since they had left Booty Bay, the strangling feeling, the shadows in the corners of his eyes, the voice. Shagrath fought it, as he had managed to fight it the last time he had walked this road with Neferi.

“You little fool… Have you learned nothing? I warned you the last time… and I was right… she betrayed you, and now you’re starting to lower your shield for her again… miserable weakling”, it sneered. Shagrath refused to reply, sternly fighting to deny any effect the words had on him. It slowly faded, drawing back into the shadows, waiting.

As they reached the end of the road, a silence fell. They both remembered the place, of course. As they stepped from the trail shadowed by thick layers of leaves, a breathtaking and familiar view opened before them. Gently glowing in the light of the moon, a ledge of rock stood out from the forest, reaching out at the sea. High above the water, the shelf stood; unchallenged, strong and independent. Exactly like Shagrath had stood on it ages ago. He had lost that confidence. Insecure of the very principles he had built his world on, he now stood weary and overcome with doubt. This did not go unnoticed by Neferi. Stepping closer to the edge where Shagrath stood, she spoke in much softer tones than earlier, “What’s on your mind?”

“I’ve had time in my absence, to try and get my head straight”, Shagrath murmured, staring at the horizon.
“…did it help?” Neferi questioned, following his gaze with her eyes.
“I think I’ve managed to open my eyes more in the attempt… but no, quite the opposite”, Shagrath furrowed his brows in slight frustration. “This far my world has been clear… but now there is haze… I’m… hesitating. Do I… belong? I accomplished so much... built out of thin air… and when I was gone for a while I was… replaced”, Shagrath continued speaking softly. “And the irony of it is… There was no one but myself to blame for that. I built the order to repair itself… even if the broken part was… me”, Shagrath smiled bittersweetly and gazed up to the stars.
“It’s strange… I… for some reason just can’t hate you… no matter how hard I try… how desperately”, Neferi whispered, lost in thought. Shaking her head abruptly, she continued, “Tell me honestly, Shagrath… Have you enjoyed living your life like that?”

Shagrath blinked once, turning slightly to look at Neferi.

“With all the fights within the Sphere… With all the people who would stab you in the back the moment they could…” she carried on, turning slightly to meet Shagrath’s eyes. Shagrath closed his eyes and drew in breath slowly.
“All the people who you hurt… even the ones who you perhaps cared about…” she finished, her voice trailing off.

Shagrath held his breath with a tormented expression passing his face. “…it’s the only thing…” he whispered and paused. “…the only thing I’m good for”, he murmured, releasing the air from his lungs. Neferi took a small step closer to Shagrath. He lowered his head and continued, “I had nothing else…”
“Heh… you had… perhaps…” Neferi whispered, peering at Shagrath. He opened his sadness filled eyes and looked into Neferi’s. His lips parted, he tried to form words, tried to tell her she was the only thing that had mattered, but he had been lost so long before she came. Shagrath closed his mouth, there were no words. And none were needed. She knew. Stepping carefully even closer, she slowly reached her hands and wrapped them around him.

“…I’m sorry… I became a monster… for so long before I met you…” Shagrath whispered bittersweetly.
“…I am… sorry that… I could not help you…” Neferi whispered, pressing herself against Shagrath with a sigh. Shagrath startled slightly, blinking once slowly. He closed his eyes, drawing a deep breath, his face twisting with anguishing sorrow. Neferi struggled to find something to say, words dying at her lips. She leaned slowly forward and gave Shagrath a short and gentle kiss on his lips.

She pulled her head back slowly, keeping her eyes closed. Shagrath stood rigid for a moment, holding his breath. Then, releasing the air in his lungs, his shoulders slumping down a bit, he reached his other hand around Neferi, stroking her hair gently with the other. “…No… don’t say such thing…” he whispered, leaning forward and kissing Neferi’s forehead once gently, “…there was nothing you could have done… it’s me… I destroy everything I touch… a monster”
“…you’re not a monster…” she whispered, tightening her arms around him, “a monster could never… hold someone like this…”
“I did before… and still hurt you”, Shagrath whispered grimly, caressing Neferi’s hair slowly.
“That… pain helped me…” she objected, but Shagrath interrupted her, gently pressing his finger on her lips.
“...No… it was the monster…” he continued. Neferi gave him a desperate look, but remained silent. “But now I will begin anew… I’m finally strong enough… with you…” he whispered, wrapping his arms tightly around Neferi, leaning his head gently against Neferi’s. “Screw the world…” he whispered bitterly, “it never wanted me anyway… I never belonged…”

“…I belong here, with you.”

A warm and gentle breeze, carrying the distinctive scent of the jungle, swept across the shores, bringing life to the leaves that seemed to have frozen in the moment. Gently it fluttered over the couple lost in each other’s embrace, drying a single tear from a cheek of a man unable to cry.

Lit by an eerie light, seeming to ooze from the numerous cracks of the decayed walls and ceiling boards, Grand Hamlet Lodge in Raven hill was in dire need of renovation. But today its collapsed state was nothing but positive: Hallow’s end had come.

Shagrath cared little for the lousy condition of the inn or the scent of rot, even less for the customers running around dressed in various carnival outfits or the festival itself. Sipping his mead and staring ahead, Shagrath was lost in deep thought. When a red figure appeared glooming in the corner of his eye, standing annoyingly close, Shagrath’s eye narrowed very slightly and he turned his head, expecting the inquiry of “trick or threat”. His frown turned into a smirk, however, as he recognised Fenuviel standing in front of him. Carrying close to exactly same kind of red shoulder pads as Shagrath wore, dressed in blood red mail armour just like Shagrath, Fenuviel stood waiting to know the reason why Shagrath had summoned him.

“I can see your sense of style has improved”, Shagrath said with a hint of sarcasm in his voice, his lips turning into a grin.
“I thought I’d dress up as something scary for the occasion”, Fenuviel shot back in a cool voice.
Shagrath chuckled with a grin, leaning back and pulling forth a pipe from his pocket.
“Sit”, he murmured, gesturing at the vacant seat in front of him with his pipe. Fenuviel slid down on the chair and regarded Shagrath coldly. Shagrath returned his gaze intently and with a smirk, filling his pipe without haste. As Fenuviel waited patiently, sitting rigid in his seat, Shagrath peered at him for a long moment while quietly smoking his pipe.

“I’ve taken over the Sphere”, Shagrath murmured expressionless, breaking the long silence and slowly blowing forth smoke.
“…What?” Fenuviel blinked. Shagrath regarded him quietly through the slowly swirling smoke.
“You know how much I dislike repeating myself…” he murmured softly.
“How? When?” Fenuviel inquired his stern expression breaking as he leaned slightly forth in his seat.
“Today. Etarios is now exiled”, Shagrath replied.
“I… see. What now, then?” Fenuviel asked, leaning back in his chair and regaining some of his composure.
“I shall ensure my status and dispose of those who try to stand in my way”, Shagrath answered. Fenuviel’s face turned into a slight frown. “I can’t see why you’re so upset with this… Do you despise my rule out of a principle? You said you wanted order, has there ever been such discipline, as there was when I reigned over the Sphere? Or is it the casualties you worry over?” Shagrath questioned in soft, expressionless tones.
“Surely you can understand why I dislike having a collar and leash about my neck?” Fenuviel replied with a hint of bitterness in his voice.
“Try to dig into your memories. Was it not the time I ruled alone over the entire Sphere, when you were most left in peace?” Shagrath muttered. “Allowed to spend time with that… boy?” he added. Fenuviel’s eyes grew narrow.
“It does not matter what position you or I hold, the leash remains. I am thankful for your lessons; they have changed me a great deal. But there have been times when you’ve pulled too hard” he replied. Shagrath’s eyes flashed in amusement. He chuckled quietly, his lips turning into a smirk. Fenuviel could barely contain his anger.
“Do you remember where it began?” Shagrath asked with the same smirk playing on his lips.
“I remember every moment”, Fenuviel replied bitterly.
“Do you remember what you asked me… what exactly it was that you asked me to do?” Shagrath persisted. Fenuviel shook his head slightly.
“Not exactly. It was because you had said I was weak… I asked you to teach me… to be strong” Fenuviel mumbled.
“You wanted to be like me… You asked for my help in that…” Shagrath chuckled quietly, looking at Fenuviel with a trace of pity on his face which, however, never reached his eyes.

Fenuviel nodded slowly to Shagrath's words, only a small motion.

"I looked up to you. Like the father I no longer had, that I hadn't been able to prove myself to either. Ataris didn't see through me... but you did. You said that I was weak," he murmured, watching as the taller Elf nodded in turn.
"Takes one to know one," he responded, causing Fenuviel to arch a brow, staring at him more quizzically.
"What is that supposed to mean? What weaknesses do you possibly possess anymore? Nothing even phases you... you're infuriating!" Fenuviel sighed, but Shagrath only chuckled.
"I mean my past, of course..."

Ahh, his past. Fenuviel was almost painfully curious about that, as he had been for so long. He wondered what lay in all those years before their meeting. What had caused Shagrath to change, as he was certain that he hadn't always been this way, that he'd been far different in fact.
"There is still so much I do not know about you, Shagrath... You started to tell me once, but you stopped," Fenuviel murmured, watching Shagrath's eyes widen. The dark haired elf leant back slowly in his chair, inhaling the bitter smoke from his pipe. Fenuviel leant forward just slightly, his eyes firmly upon his master as he pressed a bit further. "You spoke of a young Elf who wished to explore the world outside... who joined a band of bandits." Shagrath nodded again, slowly, replying only after a slight pause.
"That was the elf I saw in you... The one who wished to prove himself..." Shagrath answered, and though Fenuviel wanted to here more, he couldn't help speaking. His voice was soft still, but slightly insistent. He had to know.
"Do you ever miss that, Shagrath? The past?"

Shagrath held his pipe in his mouth still, his gaze turning away from Fenuviel to stare ahead, expressionless. "Is there some reason there? Is that why you had to kill it in me?" Fenuviel added. A sly smirk spread across Shagrath's lips.
"Besides the fact that you asked me to...? Besides having a loyal servant along with it?"
"Yes. I couldn't have known then, could I? You didn't want a son, or a brother, or even a friend. Just a servant," Fenuviel stated simply. It was difficult to read the expression on the pale Elf's face, but Shagrath's eyes widened in turn at the words, even if only for a brief moment before he blew some smoke into the air. "That is why you have to hurt me so much... to try and make me as alone as you are," Fenuviel added, causing Shagrath to look to him momentarily with a knowing look.
"You are aware how I perceive that..." He didn't need to say more, Fenuviel knew. He viewed it as strength, perhaps. Not something to be looked down upon. We are all alone in the end. Fenuviel waved a hand dismissively, glancing away for a moment, though Shagrath continued. "However, I've always felt alone... Somehow.."
"I know that we perceive it differently. But did you always perceive it as you do now? Did you never wish not to be alone?" Fenuviel was well aware that Shagrath had been different at some time, but he needed to hear the answer. He needed to ask it anyway.
"Of course not..." Shagrath answered predictably.
"Why did you change?"
"I was taught," he replied, slowly glancing towards Fenuviel, and his apprentice held the look, seeming to search his master's eyes a moment before he spoke.
"Who taught you? Why did they? Did you ask for it?" Fenuviel hadn't questioned Shagrath to such an extent for a very long time.
"I've told you enough about my past to figure that out.. Pain is an effective teacher.... in all its forms. I've taken you to the place where that young elf died once..."
Fenuviel frowned slightly, images of the Undercity flashing through his head. The smell of death. The cages, the crying people and stink of chemicals. "After that... I've been my own teacher," he continued. Fenuviel nodded slightly, glancing down at the table. "And that, my apprentice... is something more ruthless than you can ever imagine..."

Fenuviel smirked slightly, though noticed Shagrath shivering slightly, perhaps at whatever those words had caused him to remember. Fenuviel was fairly certain that he could in fact imagine, though he didn't want to. He was almost angry that he still cared so much for Shagrath, that he felt compassion and sympathy for him, that he wanted to comfort him and chase away whatever memories plagued him. He knew that he couldn't, that he couldn't even try. Fenuviel's lips parted as though to speak, brows furrowing, but stopped himself with a shake of his head, leaning to rest his chin against a gloved fist, covering his mouth instead.

"There were times... when the lessons got out of control," Shagrath continued, not seeming to notice Fenuviel's actions, or when his apprentice looked back up to him. He remained staring ahead, smoke curling into the air from his pipe.
"What happened?" Fenuviel's voice broke the brief silence. Shagrath licked his lips idly.
"I followed one of my own teachings, in yours... to the letter," he replied distractedly.
"Which lesson...?" Fenuviel was almost afraid to ask, his eyes slightly widened as he peered at Shagrath, though the taller Elf only continued to stare forward, biting his pipe absently. Shagrath's simply reply sent an almost unnoticeable shiver down Fenuviel's spine, an almost tangible chill.
"The family one,"

That had been Fenuviel's first lesson. Shagrath had not so much forced as coaxed Fenuviel into killing his brother. Fenuviel remembered Shagrath asking him if he still loved him, and when he said yes, that was when he'd declared they would be paying him a visit. Fenuviel had known what it would lead to in the back of his mind, but had tried to remain oblivious until the weight of the truth was too much to bear. But by the time he'd come face to face with his brother after so many months, his hesitation had somehow slipped away. Love had been momentarily blacked out by hate and anger, and somehow he'd found himself with his brother's blood upon his hands, and the body burning into ash by the torch in Shagrath's hand. The mad gleam in his eyes, as though he wasn't fully there. He wasn't seeing Fenuviel's brother, but someone else.

Fenuviel shook himself.

"I remember the look in your eyes... but I didn't fully understand it then..." the apprentice murmured almost absently, licking his lips before speaking again. Simply. "Why, Shagrath?"

"They didn't understand what I had become... That I was... stronger," His eyes were still distant, but somehow Fenuviel felt that he couldn't stop now, that despite it, the information was being given more freely. He watched his master with a strangely calm gaze.
"Did you ever regret it? Did you ever... wish that they had accepted you?"
"Of course... at the time, I wished nothing more to be accepted. But I proved my strength soon enough, it didn't matter," Fenuviel frowned slightly, but Shagrath continued, even quieter. "Somehow, I wanted to explain everything to them... but there weren't any words,"

Fenuviel's brows furrowed slightly as he tilted his head, watching Shagrath through the tendrils of smoke that the taller Elf's lips released slowly into the air.
"I suppose... that is where we differ. You say that it didn't matter after that. But I never stopped longing for them. The feeling of being complete. To be loved and safe, unconditionally. But I never could get what I wanted from you. It never seemed to be enough, for you or me. I found you too late..."

Shagrath only laughed quietly.
"I would not have met your requirements of strength either..."
"That never mattered to me, until you made it a problem," Fenuviel urged softly. He knew that he was only making it worse for himself, but somehow he wanted it, to believe Shagrath had been good.
"Perhaps true..." Shagrath answered with a slight smirk.
"When I first met you, I only wanted to be happy. I wanted to belong somewhere. That is something you didn't manage to change. That I cannot survive alone. You only made that worse," Fenuviel smiled slightly.
"Have you given it a shot, then?" Shagrath replied simply, smirking through the haze of smoke as he let out another puff of it into the air.
"For the brief time before you found me. And so many times when I tried to convince myself I hated you. But no matter what I do... it always leads me back to someone. Why should I try to separate myself from them when they give me strength? Unnecessary risks, I know. But I am willing to take them. Some things are worth the risks," Almost to his surprise, Fenuviel found that Shagrath was smiling at him, even if only faintly, before he once again stared ahead.
"It's always good to remember what the stakes are. There aren't any risks when there is nothing to lose,"
"The stakes are high... but it gives me a purpose. It makes this life worth living. More value than simply doing your bidding," Fenuviel answered simply. Shagrath smirked again, and Fenuviel cast a glance in his direction, searching his face once more.
"Indeed, if you have nothing to lose in your life, when you minimize the risks... then it serves no purpose. What you lack... is ambition," Shagrath grinned very faintly at his apprentice. "Again, something I'm only grateful of,"

"That is true, perhaps... I don't know what I am after now... except fixing what throws itself in my way from one moment to the next. I wish that I could be more, so that you would appreciate me for my strengths, rather than rejoicing in my weaknesses," Fenuviel offered a slightly bittersweet smile to Shagrath.
"It is something for me to improve... Though, it has its risks... I should give you more credit," Fenuviel snorted slightly in amusement before Shagrath continued. "It's just that I've rarely been in a position where someone looks up to me, and expects acknowledgement. With Malevolence, it's much easier..." Shagrath grinned slightly, as did Fenuviel, even as Shagrath compared him to his dog.
"I suppose it is partially my own fault, that it is so difficult... I am the way I am because I choose to be. Because I fight myself, and you. I do not rejoice in either extreme of good or 'evil', weak or strong. I prefer to see things from the middle, so that I can know the faults and strengths of both. Nothing and no one will ever be perfect,"
"Aye, sounds familiar enough..." Shagrath chuckled slightly, lips curling into a grin.

Another silence fell upon them, but it was obvious the apprentice was only waiting for just a pause. His eyes were intent once more as he leant forward slightly.

"Shagrath..."

At his name, Shagrath looked up, peering at Fenuviel as he let out a breath of smoke from between his narrowed lips, waiting for his apprentice to speak.
"Tell me... what you think of me now. When you look at me, what do you see? When you smile like you do, is it because you think I am silly and foolish?" Fenuviel asked. It was odd how one could feel hopeless and hopeful at the same time.
"Yes," Shagrath replied simply. Though it stung slightly, Fenuviel revealed nothing. "It is because you're foolish... You make mistakes and say things, exactly the same way I once did... It's like looking back on yourself and thinking 'Oh how could I have been that silly back then'..." Shagrath smirked slightly. "And yet, so understandable,"

Fenuviel returned the faint smirk. There was a pause.
"Is that all?" he asked.
"Probably not, but it answers your question," Shagrath answered simply, causing Fenuviel to chuckle quietly.
"I simply wonder sometimes, if that is all you see in me. A shadow of your past, a silly boy. If I am an actual person to you, or simply a servant. Like Malevolance. Something you need spend little thought on except to command,"

There was another faint pause before Shagrath spoke.
"It's not always the silly boy... The shadow has been growing stronger all the time... You've been becoming more and more like me with time... as was the purpose... and those things of my past that I see in you are not always from the distant past. When it comes to me not treating you as an actual person, don't take it personally... objective thinking comes with my views of this world,"
Fenuviel smirked slightly.
"What is it you think of yourself then? You said once that you were a monster. Are you proud of yourself? Do you hate yourself? Do you hate me? And objective thinking... yes. I know you do that. Does that mean that you've never cared at all for me? When you thought I had died, was it merely an.. economic loss, so to speak?" the apprentice regarded Shagrath quietly as he asked all this, his face lacking expression.
"If you're interested in the feelings I feel, even tough their actual impact on my actions is insignificant... they are like wind that blows over me, soon gone without a trace. I can tell you that my feelings of my past are sometimes fond and sometimes... hateful. I'm proud of what I have achieved. Not many can be,"

After a pause, Fenuviel nodded quietly.
"A very long time ago... some time between now and the moment I begged you to teach me, I promised myself that I'd never become like you," slowly he grinned.
"Only once?" Shagrath asked, smirking. Fenuviel's lips remained in a faint smile. His manner was calm still. Accepting.

"It was something I simply repeated to myself, like a mantra. And somewhere between then and now... I suppose it was lost."

Deep in the cursed depths of Duskwood lies a grove, in which few have set foot in for centuries. Not even the haunted trees, that seem to reach their skeletal roots and branches everywhere, dare to enter it. The starving wolves roaming the forest, in search for anything with even a little bit of flesh on its bones, travel around it from afar. The air stands still there, petrified.

Now, however, its solitary was breached by an extraordinary group. A party brought together by hate and separated by love for the only one entering unwillingly.

Lying still on cold, hard and smooth stone, Shagrath whipped his mind to figure out where he was. Keeping his eyes closed, he fought back the pain threatening to draw him back into the blissful unconsciousness. His hands were tied firmly behind his back. He couldn’t hear anything; the silence was overwhelming, in fact. He could, however, feel presences nearby.

As the dizziness slowly gave away, Shagrath remembered leaving Darkshire. He had received a message from Sardon, leader of a cult he had successfully run operations with against the alliance in the past. A message that had requested an audience. Demanded of one, actually, but Shagrath knew not to take the abruptness of the undead prophet personally. Foreseeing many ways to benefit from the cult, as he had in the past, he had made his way towards the Beggar’s haunt. Suddenly the shadows of the forest had come to life. The ambush had been over in a matter of seconds. At the first sign of movement, Shagrath had drawn his sword, assuming a defensive stance. To his horror he had noticed, from the corners of his eyes, that the shadows were approaching from every direction. Lowering his barycentric, planning to lash out with his sword in a whirling motion - hopefully taking as many of them with him as he could - Shagrath had already been reached by a massive blow to the back of his head.

Shagrath’s mind raced. Knowing his opponent now, he assessed his cards. One question remained… Why? Sardon could have surely benefited from Shagrath. Their common enemies were numerous. Their agendas walked hand in hand, they could both only benefit from cooperation. Sardon was smart, in the same malicious and calculating way as Shagrath.

This didn’t make sense, something was missing.

Restless movement, washing over the nearby presences like a wind, was audible in the heavy silence. Footsteps against stone could be heard from afar, and someone slowly strode past Shagrath, robes rustling as he did, obviously moving to meet the ones arriving. The heavier footsteps belonged to two persons; one in heavy and one in lighter boots, Shagrath marked as they drew closer. They halted nearby and a screaming silence fell. Everyone held their breath, those that had the tendency to breathe at all that is, and waited.

“Here is your… prey. As agreed upon”, Sardon’s voice finally broke the silence. It echoed through Shagrath’s mind, the crude and meaningless orcish ringing in his ears, and the smooth and cold voice resounding in his head through the connection created by the dark sphere. “He is mostly… unharmed”, he continued, turning from what Shagrath could make out of the gentle rustle of his robes.
Shagrath kept completely still, feigning unconsciousness, but also stiff from the excitement that flushed through him as he waited to hear who Sardon has been talking to, to learn who was truly behind this.
“You truly mean to go through with it, then?” someone whispered quietly. Shagrath fought to recognise the voice, scanning through human faces in his mind, for the voice had belonged to one, hoping to find something familiar, but with no avail. Shagrath focused to listen again, for the one Sardon had addressed was yet to speak. Then he did, a soft elven voice, not much louder than a whisper, yet audible, “I want him untied. Unbound. No one is to touch him afterwards.”

Shagrath’s eyes flew wide open. Using all his wits to completely reassess the situation, Shagrath stared into eyes shining silvery light, slightly dimmer than most elves. Silver hair fell freely over the shoulders of his captor who was covered in blood-red armour. Not for one brief moment did Shagrath’s intense stare break from his eyes, not even when strong skeletal hands cut the ropes restraining his hands and roughly lifted him to his feet. Neither blinked, and for a moment it seemed they would never do so.

The Apprentice had gained an upper hand over the Master.

Then, Shagrath glanced at the two undead soldiers standing to his sides, his face expressionless but visible contempt in his eyes. Fenuviel blinked, as if shaking off the intensity of Shagrath’s stare, and glanced about at the guards.
“Can everyone step back”, Fenuviel ordered more than questioned, eyeing the guards standing close to Shagrath with their blades unsheathed. Sardon, having taken place a good distance behind Shagrath to observe, nodded and the guards left Shagrath to stand alone, in the middle of the stone platform.

Shagrath glanced around him expressionless. The huge stone platform stood high in the grove, unchallenged. Behind him he saw a huge swirling portal. Far in the distance, he could recognise trees of Duskwood. Surrounding him in a distance of a short sprint, stood a dozen of cultists staring at him, armed to the toe.

Shagrath turned to regard Fenuviel again, his gaze showing no outward change, but inwardly it measured, calculated and assessed. His apprentice was the only way out of this alive.

He was the key.

"Welcome, Dreamer," Fenuviel spoke softly. He stood before his master as the Sandman once more. It was this guise that had earned him the trust and admiration of the Cult, enough that they'd been willing to help him, and so it was this guise that he appeared as. It seemed fitting. Here, in the Grove, where so many had suffered his 'nightmares', he would finally go through with his promises. He'd finally deliver someone to the Eternal Rest he always threatened. Shagrath would become a dreamer, and Fenuviel would be free of the nightmare forever. His entire form was clad in the slightly mismatched but intimidating set of red mail and cloth. Upon each cheek a vertical red line had been painted, beginning just beneath each eye and trailing down over his cheeks.

Over Shagrath's shoulder, he could see the prophet grinning to himself. The other guards remained stoic, though the single female forsaken seemed rather upset by the whole thing. Fenuviel ignored her as best he could, gazing back to Shagrath with a faint smile. Shagrath's own expression remained blank. His eyes were hard though, silently waiting, demanding for Fenuviel to speak. Behind the Sandman stood another hooded figure, human. Illusion. Jaqien. His lips curled into the ghost of a smile.

"Do you remember the night when you told me of the dogs in a cage?" Fenuviel canted his head to one side, that silver hair spilling away from his face as he did in a surprisingly elegant fashion considering the obvious menace his presence presented now. Shagrath narrowed his eyes at the words, lowering his head very briefly in a stiff nod. And so, Fenuviel continued.

"Do you remember why you had to explain it to me? The question I asked of you?" Fenuviel arched his brows very slightly. What he was referring to, of course, was happiness. He'd asked Shagrath if he was happy. But as it turned out, Shagrath had little care for happiness. As he had put it, Happiness was a piece of meat being held in front of a cage. Everyone was a dog in the cage, all stepping on one another to try and get to their goal, but none succeeding except to injure each other. Shagrath repeated his previous gesture once again, his brows slowly furrowing deeper.

"You told me that you did not want happiness. That you did not seek it. What you wanted instead... was to have victory over your own inner demons. To rest," Fenuviel recounted all the same, his slender hands moving to his hips, where a dagger was strapped to each thigh. His fingers curled about the hilts, drawing them both. One blade seemed nothing more than shadows, pulsating, while the other was a smaller, simpler, and slightly worn knife. It was the knife Shagrath had first given to Fenuviel when he'd granted him the choice whether or not to join the Sphere. It seemed only appropriate. "Tonight... I shall grant you your rest, Shagrath," However, he lowered his arms to his sides, making it clear that he was not going to attack anyone. Not yet. The guards left him be.

"You guarded yourself from love, and it has left you with nothing tonight. Nothing but those demons. This was your decision," he went on, seeming to drift slowly closer. "You have tried to remain on the top of the pile. Every time anyone has tried to throw you down, you crawl your way back up to the top. For nothing. Only a longer way to fall. And you have tried to keep me beneath you. Suffocating... trampled. But I will endure it no longer. You are merely a tie that I must sever now,"

There was a chilled silence as Fenuviel's eyes regarded Shagrath. Those odd, silver eyes, that did not so much shine like a normal Elf's would, but reflected the light the way a cat's would. Strange they certainly were, seeming both intense and somehow distant at once.

"Speak, Shagrath," the apprentice demanded as he turned his head to fully face the master once again, lifting his chin slightly in a defiant manner. Confident. This was his night.

"But if you cannot swear on your life that your soul is pure and unblemished by wrongdoing, then it shall be mine tonight," These words he had often spoke to his victims as the Sandman.
"Fenuviel... you know he can't swear..." Jaqien hissed behind him. But of course, it was obvious that Shagrath could not swear. Could anyone really? The pale Elf's lips curled slowly into a rather enigmatic smile.

Shagrath lifted his chin slightly as well, eyeing his apprentice, measuring. He stood tall and remained composed, and very slowly, the left corner of his lips curled into a small smirk. Accepting. The dark haired Elf's lips parted as he drew in a breath, speaking.

”Up to now, I’ve punished you for your mistakes, tried to keep you from repeating them”, Shagrath began, speaking softly yet audibly, standing tall and composed. “However, there are lessons that can only be learned through mistakes. These lessons can’t be repeated, they’re ultimate, definitive... They will haunt you for the rest of your life”, he continued, staring intently into Fenuviel’s eyes. “They will become part of you, scars that you will learn to cherish in time...”

“Cherish…” Fenuviel mumbled with a scorn.
“Let me explain, apprentice…” Shagrath lifted his chin ever so slightly, narrowing his eyes. “World consists of static forces. We are mere chips on the board. The forces never change, they are infinite, but the chips they affect the world through, are replaced in the flow of time...” Shagrath spoke slowly and softly. “Perhaps, it has come a time for me to be replaced. I accept it, it’s part of the circle and unavoidable”, he continued. Seeing Fenuviel nod slightly, Shagrath grinned inwardly. “The question is...” he added, and waited for the heavy silence to bring his words out in a stark contrast.

“Are you ready to take my place on the board?”

Fenuviel’s brows furrowed a little and his lips parted in reply, but Shagrath’s hand rose slightly in an interrupting gesture. “I think you are. I’ve been preparing you for it ever since I met you…” he said, staring Fenuviel intently in the eyes. “Claim my place. You are ready, Fenuviel, my only true apprentice. Kill me, and take up the position in this world you were born for. Embrace my dark gift…” Shagrath’s voice grew slightly faster paced and more intense, his eyes widening with a strange glow in them.
“You wish for me to continue your path of pain and destruction, when my desires remain the same. We have always wanted different things. I will never fully abandon myself to the ways that will destroy me, like they have destroyed you”, Fenuviel replied, regarding Shagrath intently. “No, Shagrath. This is not for you. This is for me, and my own life. Yours ends here and now. Your story, ends here”, he continued sternly. A very slight smirk appeared on Shagrath’s lips as the silence fell for a moment.
“You keep repeating that… like a mantra. You constantly keep bringing up that you’re doing this for yourself. Why is that? Because you of all the people should know I do not care about the reasons and desires behind your actions”, Shagrath paused again, ”as long as they steer your actions towards my will”
Fenuviel glared at Shagrath, a quiet and sigh of frustration escaping his lips.
“Let your blades open up the path to your new life... kill me, claim my gift... replace me” Shagrath hissed, his eyes widening slightly and his breath growing more frequent.
“I do not wish for your gift, Shagrath. I wish for you to be gone. I wish to be free of you. I am throwing away the leash. This game is over”, Fenuviel replied. Shagrath’s lips curled into a slight smirk again.
“The only way for you to replace me... is through this moment... Through my death, your life will receive a new meaning! But if you spare me, I will destroy you and everything you hold dear…” Shagrath’s voice raised slowly, his tone demanding and his eyes glittering in the intense stare. “You've become a long way... you've been through it all... don't throw it away now..."

"Kill me!” Shagrath chanted his eyes wide and shining brightly, as he stared into the eyes of his apprentice.

Fenuviel couldn't reconcile the sudden pang of fear he had. There was some secret left unknown, but he wasn't sure he wanted to know it. He didn't want this to go on. Shagrath's words burned into him, but he simply had to shrug them off. This had to be done.

Shut up. SHUT UP.

Fenuviel lifted the old dagger and pointed it at Shagrath's chest.
"Your armour," he stated gruffly. "If this is your will, then remove it," he finished abruptly, gazing down the length of his own arm as he peered almost questioningly at Shagrath. Challenging. But Shagrath was unphased. His eyes... sparkled. That crazed gleam that he'd seen only a few times before. But still, he couldn't explain it. Shagrath's fingers moved to swiftly unbuckle his shoulderpads and breastplate, the metal clattering noisily onto the stone below. His eyes never left his apprentice though, and he lifted his chin slightly, peering down at Fenuviel with a strangely pleased expression that caused Fenuviel to falter for just a moment. Fenuviel's eyes narrowed dangerously as he regarded Shagrath for a moment in silence.

The crimson clad Elf drew closer finally, his heavy boots making a soft clopping against the stone as he came near. A slender arm was extended, coiling about Shagrath's waist so that he couldn't move away, even if it was obvious he had no intention of doing so. In fact, Shagrath stood completely still, merely examining Fenuviel's face with an approving smile as the flat edge of the knife was placed against his bare stomach by his apprentice's right hand. Fenuviel could almost feel the vibrant green eyes of Jaqien behind him. He knew that now was the point of no return, and the tension was almost humming in the air. Tangible.

"Today the wolves die. This knife started it all, and so it shall end. First... the hatred," Fenuviel spoke calmly, pulling his hand away from Shagrath's stomach. His wrist straightened, locking, forcing the point to connect with Shagrath's skin even before he'd pushed forward. It pierced the Elf's flesh with sickening ease, and Fenuviel felt Shagrath tense as he grunted sharply, swaying almost, though somehow he managed to straighten once again. Those eyes bore into Fenuviel's once more, glittering still. Fenuviel held the gaze, but somehow it was maddening. Something was screaming violently in his head. No.

Letting go of the blade, though leaving it lodged in Shagrath's flesh, he wrapped his right arm about Shagrath's waist instead, the left releasing him. Shagrath placed his fingers over the bleeding wound, though slowly lifted it, almost seeming to move towards Fenuviel's face, though it trembled just slightly. Fenuviel paid his master's antics little heed, those silver eyes still focused upon him with deadly seriousness.

"And the last wolf... the one you denied, almost dead already... You refused love. And you tried to destroy mine. My heart. For a time, I thought that the wounds would bleed forever," Fenuviel spoke softly still, but somehow his voice resonated richly still. There was no uncertainty in his voice or eyes. "But now... it will be yours that forever bleeds. Your love shall be for no one," With this, Fenuviel pulled Shagrath roughly against him, the second dagger stabbing him. The shadowy blade seemed to cut just as effectively as any metal. Another grunt of pain was torn from Shagrath, having to take support from the arm that was wrapped about him. That trembling hand found its mark then, bloodied fingers pressing against Fenuviel's forehead as Shagrath stared into his eyes with surprising intensity, but then closed them only a moment later.

Fenuviel made no attempt to pull away from the hand, even as he shivered slightly feeling the liquid drip slowly down his temples, still warm. He pulled the blades back, letting them clatter to the ground behind him before quickly wrapping his arms about Shagrath once more to support him, holding him tightly. Even so, Shagrath had begun to sway fiercely, just barely managing to keep himself up, and the two began to sink. Shagrath drew in a slow gasp, drawing air in only with a good deal of effort. As he sank to his knees, he pushed the breath out of his lungs, blowing the air against Fenuviel's face. The rest of his composure seemed to leave him along with that breath as he finally collapsed in the arms of his apprentice. Fenuviel's composure seemed to have been somehow strained in only a matter of moments. Where he had been utterly confident before, his lips now drew into a deep frown. His voice was even softer now, gentle, and pained as he moved to cradle Shagrath's upper half in his arms.

"May you find your rest, master,"

Something strange happened then, however. Shagrath's eyes were closed tightly, seeming not to hear Fenuviel as he suddenly jolted violently, the hand upon Fenuviel's forehead shaking, vibrating almost. And then in only a moment, he relaxed completely within Fenuviel's embrace once more. Those golden eyes opened slowly and looked up to Fenuviel, a weak smile tracing his lips. But it wasn't like the previous one. It was somehow... genuine. Apologetic...? It was gentle, and undeniably sad, that look.

Fenuviel's expression softened further, feeling his heart sink and his stomach churn with sudden sorrow and dread as Shagrath spoke.

"Fenuviel... my poor Fenuviel..."

Every good lie has a grain of truth in it.

Shagrath had felt it growing. He had felt it in his breath: the air he inhaled had become thicker and thicker. He had felt it in his eyes: they moved on their own, without his consent. He slowly became a bystander in his own body. The more he hesitated the more it took over. It kept up and fed his story, even adding to it, the story he had come up with in the attempt to get out of the situation alive. Shagrath was starting to doubt it was his story to begin with, he couldn’t remember for sure anymore, the shadows were too dense.

He watched, as his mouth formed words he could not recognise. It was as if in a dream, everything was hazy, Fenuviel standing there… listening, and then slowly drawing his blades. From afar, as if looking at something in the other end of a tunnel, he saw Fenuviel’s face wear a stern expression. Then, in slow motion, Shagrath could see his own hand draw a symbol on Fenuviel’s forehead… a symbol in blood.

Shagrath did not recognise the symbol, but it made him shiver. The shivering did not cease, however, but grew more frequent and reckless. Spasm shook him furiously, as he felt something crawling deep in his throat. It ripped its way through Shagrath’s trachea slowly, clawing, burning and gnawing. Shagrath’s jaw was stretched to its very limits, as the hideous pitch black insect-like creature plunged itself trough.

Shagrath fell into darkness.

The silence and the gentle embrace of the folds of darkness were drawing Shagrath in firmly, inviting. Yet, there was something, a memory, which made Shagrath hesitate.

Ah, yes… That thing. The warning.

Shagrath opened his eyes slowly. Fenuviel was there, close. Good, he could return to rest soon then… so tired.
“…Fenuviel… my poor Fenuviel…” he whispered, reaching out his hand and stroking his hair slowly. How beautiful he is… Why it had to be him… Noticing his hand to be as heavy as lead, he rested it beside him soon.
“I’m sorry I could not save you”, Fenuviel murmured, holding Shagrath in the cradle of his arms. “Except for this…” he continued. Shagrath shook his head very weakly from side to side, his lips turning into a sad smile. Fenuviel leant forward slightly and placed a gentle kiss on Shagrath’s forehead.
“...you kept your head again... you should have listened... now… it's too late...” Shagrath whispered, looking at Fenuviel with compassion in his eyes.
“Too late...?” Fenuviel murmured.
“...it... is in you now... the whisperer...” Shagrath said, uttering every word with an effort.
“What whisperer, master?” Fenuviel asked quietly, leaning closer.
“...I fought it... I tried to resist it...” Shagrath mumbled, and an image of Neferi appeared in his mind along with the memories of the last time the voice had tried to get him dispose of her. “…and now… it has chosen another… host...” Shagrath heaved a sigh, but such a drastic action made him cough violently, blood sprinkling on his lips. Fenuviel wiped the blood quickly, almost frantically, leaning even closer.
“...I tried... I tried to restrain it... sometimes I... succeeded... but it was always there... waiting”, Shagrath muttered, reaching his hand again and stroking Fenuviel’s hair slowly for a moment. “...my poor Fenuviel... if I just could have stopped it from hurting you...” he continued, every word demanding more and more effort.

“But... you brought back the past... brought back the memories… the weakness… you were a threat...” Shagrath uttered, looking into Fenuviel’s eyes with his own eyes full of something the old elf had long ago abandoned.

Remorse.

Fenuviel choked softly, the sound of a somewhat strangled sob escaping his throat. He clutched Shagrath a bit tighter, eyes still widened from the words spoken to him, glittering with unshed tears.

"It... it was never fully you, was it?" he breathed, his voice breaking slightly with the horror of this realization. Shagrath shook his head sadly in affirmation. "Master... Shagrath," Fenu choked, causing Shagrath to shake his head again. He felt all his resolve crumbling. Any confidence, any joy he'd taken from shedding Shagrath's blood poured away along with it. His thoughts became a maddening frenzy. No! No! No! He felt that he wouldn't be able to have any control... that he could have howled from the pain of it all. That all along he'd never truly known the man. All along, there was someone left that could have been saved. All along, it had never been the truth, and all his hate was misplaced. All along...

Shagrath... who are you...

"As I said... it will become part of you... I only hope... you will succeed where I c-could not.." Shagrath's breathing was becoming somewhat laboured. Fenuviel buried his face against Shagrath's neck, only smearing the blood further upon his face as he pulled the fading Elf tightly against him.
"A-At least.. you will be at p-peace now.." he whispered.

Shagrath's eyes widened suddenly as he clutched to Fenuviel, turning his head so that he could whisper against the other's pale ear in a feverish voice.
"...You must... break... the legacy... I c-could not..." he urged once more, his eyes closing slowly as he began to relax once more, slipping further in Fenuviel's grasp.
"Shagrath...!" Fenuviel gasped, grabbing Shagrath somewhat roughly, trying to keep him up, but slowly the dark haired one slipped to the ground, smiling weakly as he opened his eyes slightly, looking at Fenuviel with effort.
"I...." his voice was nothing more than a whisper now, as though each breath pained him, each syllable so hard to form. Fenuviel bent down, his lips brushing over Shagrath's cheek, pressing a kiss just beside the corner of his mouth. Shagrath's lips parted once more to speak, using all his remaining strength.
"I... am proud of you... my Fenuviel," the words were barely above a whisper, but they sounded loud and clear in Fenu's ears. The apprentice shuddered violently, choking back a sob as his trembling hands clutched desperately at Shagrath, watching as his master offered a final weakened smile before his eyes closed for the final time.

After a long pause, Fenuviel released Shagrath, letting him rest on the stone as he crawled backwards. Jaqien took this opportunity to step forward slowly, placing a hand on Fenuviel's shoulder tentatively. The elf seemed hardly to notice, slowly crumpling forward till his forehead met his knees, slender fingers gripping amidst those silver strands of his, distraught. Hands, face, hair were all stained red from the blood of the fallen one as his form shook from his own weeping.

Under his breath, he managed a few soft words in their native tongue.

"Sleep sweet, master..."

The title he had sworn never to give Shagrath again, even when his Master had pointed out that he was still bound by their vow. But he realized now that Shagrath always would be that. The legacy would continue, and he would never be free.

"Sleep sweet... May you find your eternal rest..."