"My Sacrifice: My Shadow" (Eothan)

‘My Sacrifice: My Shadow’

Flickering
Darkened candlelight
The twinge, the muscles creaking
The gasp for air
The smack of the stone
No words spoken
--

Eothan let out a sharp cough and squinted his eyes at the plume of dust that seemed to shot across the room. He closed his eyes as he tried to steady his breathing, but to no avail as his chest continued to heave forward and backwards in sharp bursts. He had been lying on the dusty floor of a dark room for hours now, it seemed. He had been taking his training outside of Dalaran; in fact, he had been spending most of his time outside of Dalaran.

He had come across this dusty looking old building on the outskirts of Dragonblight, clearly an old homestead of some kind. It was perfect, just far enough away from Dalaran to avoid detection, and just close enough to the shadow filled lands of Northrend itself.

He coughed again, more dust spreading across the decaying floorboards beneath him. As he opened his eyes he could see the faintest glimpse of the dust settling, the room barely lit by the singular flickering candle on a nearby table. He let out a groan as he began to pull himself up, his fingernails scraping against the waterlogged and dying wood of the floor. After a few moments of trying and failing, he sat up and hunched forward, letting out a few fleeting sharp breaths. Nothing about his current “training” had been smart or safe, and he was definitely beginning to feel it, it hadn’t been so bad the day before when he’d retrieved Jess, but he had known that the affect wouldn’t be immediate.

He lifted a dirty and dusty hand to his face and rubbed it against his cheek, feeling the grind of the dirt against his skin. Nothing was working, his body was rejecting everything he was doing, but he was forcing it to remain stable enough to maintain his course.

The revelation of his blood and his true heritage had hit him hard, the surrounding problems that came with it even harder. The Caans sought to protect him, which was laughable in it’s own right, and yet the Hawthorns, the nobles of Lordaeron were the worst of the two. He couldn’t help but crack a slight smirk at this thought; the Caans were not as bad as at least one family in the whole of Azeroth. He had been certain of his choice that he would side with the family he had fought and loved, against the people that sort to destroy them. Yet when he sat alone, in this darkened decaying shack, he wondered just how sure he would be if certain circumstances were not in place.

Had he still loved Valerias Caan, the choice would have been immediate, he had been as bitter with her now as he had in the past, he probably would have the made the opposite choice. It was now that he was in the strangest of places, not really caring for any of the Caans and yet not hating them, not even her, when he knew full well he had every excuse to do so. It was the son that they had created, the young boy that he had allowed himself to feel for, to father… to cherish. And he really did cherish that boy, the life he would lead and the future he could burn into the stars. So he would fight for that boy, and he would risk life and limb to ensure that he was never harmed, never caught by these insane shadow wielders… that he would be free of that which Eothan assumed he would never be a part of himself.

He sluggishly dropped his hand from his face, sighing as his arm collided with his knee. He stared at the skin of his arm, the veins thick and visible, a sign of the strain he had been putting his body under. He slowly clenched his hand into a fist, watching as the faintest splutters of shadow energy appeared. It didn’t surprise him that the energy didn’t seem to be in sync, that it didn’t flow in one direction with the control that he normally had. This training was unlike anything he had done before, and seemed to be far more testing on his mind and body than his void walker escapades.

He had been using various shadow runes and spells, to draw upon the latent shadow energy of both the surrounding area, and that of shadow stones he had acquired a long time ago, each stone contained a different form of shadow, be it from man or beast. He had been slowly drawing each of these into himself and trying to combine them with his own energy. He peered up at the flickering candle; the stem had melted to almost absolute zero now. He coughed once again and steadied his breathing, managing to finally ease himself into a natural cycle. Peering down at the shadow energy, he noticed that it began to flicker just as the candle did, before dispersing.

He knew he wouldn’t be able to use these methods as rigorously as he had with past training sessions, with any abilities that he had created or refined. This was due to the simple fact that drawing in so many different forms of shadow was going to do heavy damage to him. He had already begun to experience that damage, he was barely able to contain his energy and it was fighting with itself. He had ended up on the floor when his body finally gave way, leaving his mind to do the rest of the work.

It hadn’t prevailed, his mind was too littered with his situation, with his caring for people, and the sacrifices he intended to make. Continuing on as he had would mean that eventually he would reach breaking point, and if he were able to draw the Hawthorns to him… that breaking point would be devastating to them all, including him.

‘But you’re free now, Eothan Dawn. Why would you sacrifice yourself so soon?’

Eothan looked up sharply, peering around the dimly lit room, wincing slightly at his own movements. His muscles had long since given up for the night. ‘Who’s there?’ he said quietly.

‘You won’t be able to see me, but you may remember me. The Caan you left to burn in shadow flame’ said the voice, it seemed to echo across the room as best it could. Eothan gritted his teeth at the realisation of who the voice belonged to and did his best to smirk.

‘Relius… and I guess this would mean that I’ve collapsed again. I highly doubt you have the intelligence to talk from beyond the grave’ he muttered. The voice chuckled in a dull tone, an almost dead tone. ‘No, you’re quite right there. However, you have a muddled mind, one that is tearing itself apart at this very moment… so you can see how this predicament was created. It’s hardly the first time you’ve had a voice inside your head’.

Eothan lifted his head slightly to peer at the ceiling, the cobwebs stretched across almost the entirety of it, barely visible due to the dim light. The voice was definitely right, his mind was capable of creating this conversation… it wasn’t working as it had always worked.

‘Well, since you’re apparently around to talk to, I have but one question. Why?’ he said as he looked down at the candle again. ‘Why?’ he muttered yet again.

‘Do not focus on the why, focus on the now. As much as you were difficult to get through to in the past, now is the time for you to actually listen to a word I say. Get out, Eothan; run as fast as you can. Do not fight them, do not stay here and believe that the likes of Ledgic can protect you from them. They cannot. Run, boy… run’ whispered the voice, and as it spoke it became quieter and quieter, before eventually fading completely.

Eothan shuddered and opened his eyes, yanking himself from the floor much faster than he had previously. His body ached, but not as much as it had and he peered at his hands. He had been dreaming, that much was obvious… and it was apparent from the light shining through the cracks in the surrounding walls that he had been unconscious for quite some time.

He lowered his hands and stepped across the dusty room, peering down at the table. The candle had long since burned away, but luckily the wax had not melted onto any of his work, his parchment littered with runes and spells, his tomes opened at the darkest of pages they contained.

He gripped the edge of the table tightly with both hands and peered intently down at the tomes. He knew the risks of this technique, he had even met that Hawthorn priest… and lectured her on the fact she had been doing more or less the same, but now wasn’t the time for holding himself back.

'I have spent my entire life; whether it can even be referred to as -my- life, beating my hands bloody against everything I ever felt. Now, you come before me and dare to claim that I am free? I am anything but free, but I'll tell you what I am, right now, for no cost. I am -pissed-' he muttered as his mind travelled to his father, his voice and what he had said to him.

And it was true, he was angry, angrier than he had felt before, but it wasn’t anger that he couldn’t point and fire at someone. There was no more bloodying his fists against anything but the enemy; there was no more screaming at the dark.

Even if it killed him, he would take every inch of shadow he could contain inside one vessel and unleash it upon those that would threaten the future of his blood, he would die happy.

That was something he had never thought would ever be true of him, to die happy, and despite all that was happening, all the pain and confusion, the thought of it put a thick smirk on his tired and dirty face.

He would make that sacrifice, and he would have no time to regret it.

Agh this is so good.

It really is, I think it's the best writing you've done in awhile. None of it was extraneous; the flow of his thoughts, his efforts, and his father's voice seemed just right to me.

'Had he still loved Valerias Caan, the choice would have been immediate, he had been as bitter with her now as he had in the past, he probably would have the made the opposite choice. It was now that he was in the strangest of places, not really caring for any of the Caans and yet not hating them, not even her, when he knew full well he had every excuse to do so. It was the son that they had created, the young boy that he had allowed himself to feel for, to father… to cherish. And he really did cherish that boy, the life he would lead and the future he could burn into the stars. So he would fight for that boy, and he would risk life and limb to ensure that he was never harmed, never caught by these insane shadow wielders… that he would be free of that which Eothan assumed he would never be a part of himself.

^ Wonderful paragraph. I really like hearing what he thinks, and it was well written. Adrian <3

‘Do not focus on the why, focus on the now. As much as you were difficult to get through to in the past, now is the time for you to actually listen to a word I say. Get out, Eothan; run as fast as you can. Do not fight them, do not stay here and believe that the likes of Ledgic can protect you from them. They cannot. Run, boy… run’ whispered the voice, and as it spoke it became quieter and quieter, before eventually fading completely.'

^ Also awesome, very... eerie and epic in a way.

'I have spent my entire life; whether it can even be referred to as -my- life, beating my hands bloody against everything I ever felt. Now, you come before me and dare to claim that I am free? I am anything but free, but I'll tell you what I am, right now, for no cost. I am -pissed-' he muttered as his mind travelled to his father, his voice and what he had said to him.

^ Eothan is such a good character!