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Myaka

Collections of a Former Theramore Guard

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((Hello all! I have a catchall story thread for Mya on the sanctum, I realized I never recreated it over here. Let us fix that shall we =D))

Leon landed outside her home but Mya did not dismount from the gryphon. Fury raged and boiled inside of her. Battlerage had roared and snarled from the moment Chancellor Skylah Mackenzie’s kidnapping had been announced. Someone, some nameless enemy had struck out at her family. But she had only thought she was angry. The stone, with Skylah’s fearful voice calling out for her sister, had fanned the flames and even now they did not die.

She pulled lightly on the reigns, taking care to not hurt the gryphon in her current state. She couldn’t go back home quite yet, the memory tugging and making the fire harsher.

Leon landed again, this time in front of the enchanted training dummies on the outskirts of Old Town. Typically she avoided this area; both because the proving grounds at Xuen’s Temple in Pandaria tended to be a better outlet, and that there are some in Old Town that would be tempted by a lone woman even if she was normally in plate. But now, she didn’t care of that, she almost hoped someone would give her a reason to hit something more than the sack of straw that made up the training dummies.

She pulled the shield from her back and confirmed she was alone before closing her eyes and letting down the walls that kept the rage from overwhelming her. Her eyes snapped open, black overtaking the light brown until there was no hint of the difference between her iris and pupil.

She charged forward, the shield bashing into one of the training dummies.

Skylah’s panicked, horrified scream as she tried to call out to her sister rang out over the stone.

A side swipe overwhelmed the enchantment on the training dummy, rending it in two. The sword cleaved into the other.

Attacked at the Hallow’s End gathering.

A snarl ripped itself from clenched teeth and she charged to another, a forward stab impaling the dummy nearly to the hilt, another cleave left the dummy barely in one piece as the enchantment tried to repair it.

Kidnapped while with the caravan.

Another wide swing of the sword destroying the second dummy before it could repair.

The Grim

She lost track of the attacks, of the charges and swings and shield bashes. She continued, each dummy replacing itself as the enchantments on them reform after a while. Her breath comes in hard gasps but she does not stop, wishing each dummy was the forsaken holding her fellow imperial. Wishing each were the horde who had –dared- lay a hand on those of her adoptive family. The words she had spoken to Kate returned to her.

I will show them the ways of their foolishness.

They will learn the lesson, and if they are lucky, they will live to regret it.

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((Is another story! I had to write a reaction to the recording. Those of you interested in what an angry Mya's like, you is gonna get it =P))

Myaka stood in the open area in the middle of Lions Watch, she had gone to assist those still fighting the Iron Horde. It had been meant as another way to siphon off battlerage, but now…

The recording played on, and the warrior could only watch; shock still and face paling rapidly as the macabre scene played out. Rage roared through her as her mind caught up with what she was seeing.

They dare-!

Her hands curled into fists at her side while a low snarl ripped itself through clenched teeth. Rage continued to grow, fury growing so much within her that she could not put a name to the violent emotion stirring itself into a frenzy. And then, suddenly she could.

Hatred

Hate burned through her with the force of a raging inferno, nearly overflowing the walls of her control. She didn’t want to hold the flames back, she wanted to let them go. She wanted to see the Grim, and those on that fel damned recording, reduced to cinders. To let there be nothing but a smoldering ruin, to leave every memory of them nothing but ashes.

The threat to leave Skylah’s head in Lions Watch snapped her from the dark path her thoughts were going down, even as another snarl fought itself free. She could not be here, not when her own control was so precarious. She knew as much as leaving behind the want for revenge rankled at her, Skylah needed to be freed. Then, and only then, would they be safe to teach the Grim the lesson they so greatly deserved.

Her eyes, light brown tinted to an unsettling black, snapped back to the recording this time focusing on what she could discern of the faces of the Horde in the screen. If she would not be able to see the Grim burn, then perhaps with luck, she could see those three ablaze.

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((It has apparently been a bit since I had a story to post here haha! Lil delayed but a Mya story from the Finale of the Feleclipse storyline!))

 

Myaka glared up at the orc warlock. Though various attacks bombarded his shield it still held firm.

 

There has to be a way to break through. Despite what this blowhard thinks he can't be unbeatable.

 

The idea struck almost as a gift granted by the Light. The Scales could traverse realms, she used that ability all the time just to store it.

Could I use that to attack?

 

She called back to Xandric, nearly ignoring his recommendation to fall back to fight a nearby Pitlord. She would need cover against the naga and chaos warriors if she were to send away her mode of defense. Trusting the giant paladin to watch her back she dropped her focus far into her battlerage seeking the connection with the Scales. She would need to maintain it more than normal if she attacked this way. It was strange and unfamiliar like testing a muscle not used. The connection flared and she pushed against it like she would throwing a weapon.

 

She grinned in triumph as the shield appeared within Karthok's barrier. Shadowflame roared from the front coating him in fire. She could tell the attack had at least irritated him if not hurting outright. She pulled the shield back before Karthok could retaliate and pushed it again. The shield reappeared in a different place and blasted him again. She lost track of the push and pulls, she didn't pay attention to the feeling of draining. Her connection to the shield and battlerage pushed to the limit.

 

She smirked as the repeated attacks from her and the others brought the barrier down and the orc was forced on the defensive. Then he was gone.

 

Where-?!

 

She barely had time to wonder long, everything next happened in quick succession. Terror that was not hers flared through her connection with the Scales and something strong grabbed onto her. She tried to grapple with the orc’s grip and the world darkened into twilight.

 

Pain exploded around her as shadowflame erupted along her body. The world lightened again, the twilight realm fading as a scream of pain ripped out from her scorching throat. As the world faded to black she couldn't help but be thankful that she had not been conscious the last time she burned to death.

 

----------------------------------

 

She felt as if she was floating, even though as she looked around she appeared to be standing somewhere in an empty blackness. This had not been what she expected at the end. She expected the Halls, a shining Val’kyr standing before her to remake her soul as a stormforged.

 

I promised Kate I would live on as a Valarjar if something ever happened. Light I… What did she want? Her gut twisted as she remembered what had happened to her family after her 'death’. How Kate had deteriorated, how Olson had meant to find someone battle where he could go out in a blaze of glory.

What would happen to them now? She had to hope her final act would be enough for them to beat Karthok.

 

“You are safe here.” A rich rumbling voice murmured softly behind her. She turned quickly, dropping into a defensive stance despite knowing she had no weapons to fight with.

 

The being before her was like nothing she had ever seen. He towered over her, in spite of her impressive height. He looked like an elf, dark skin that looked purple in the dark expanse of nothing around them. Horns curled out from dark purple hair. His armor nearly reminded her of her own demonsteel only in purple and black tones. Spikes lined the ridges of his armor in a somehow familiar way even though she has never seen this man before.

 

“Who the fel are you, what happened?” She didn't drop her defensive stance. The colors and horns marked him as either a twilight or black dragon, neither of which boded well for her.

 

“I mean you no harm.” His purple eyes twinkled with barely contained amusement. “Had I wanted to harm you, severing the connection would have allowed your death to be finalized.”

 

Connection? Suddenly, she realized something was familiar. The voice was familiar. “Are you...Are you the Scales?”

 

His mouth formed a grin. “Your wits aren't dulled, even with your second brush with a pyre.” He starts to circle her. It's not calculating, not a predator circling prey. It's nearly parental, a dragon checking a whelp for injury. “I didn't have the time to phase to you, nor did I know if I could pull you from danger. It seems all I managed to do is pull your soul to safety.” She stared dumbfounded at the man. “When...you’ve never-” She shook her head, “How the fel do you have a body?!” She finally was able to say. “You’ve never manifested before.”

 

“You’ve never allowed our connection as close as you did.” The man pointed out. “That was a dangerous choice. You used more than just your battlerage. The connected attached to your soul, not just your battlerage.” He stopped his pacing. “I understand the situation, but you should learn to temper the connection if you do that again.”

 

She shook her head, the words reminding her of Karthok. A flash of silver light distracted her. Words filtered to her, but she couldn’t understand them. “You tried to save me?”

 

The man cocks his horned head, “Aye, yes. One does not normally enjoy being immolated.”

 

“Forgive my surprise,” she states wryly. “I remember a fight in Helhiem where you flashed away and abandoned me because you were ‘wrong about my potential.’” The words are not as accusatory as they might have been had he heard them from Kate, she had somewhat forgiven the shield. She had needed the push to realise she could beat Dominic.

 

She was surprised to see shame flit across his face. “Yes, this would be a change from then. I do maintain that you needed that victory. However, there might have been a better way to give it to you.” He stepped up towards her, his tall height even more apparent. “For lack of a better way to state it, you've changed me.” He says with a slight grin. “

 

A part of her knew she should be confused. She should be afraid or traumatized, she died. Well died again. The conversation after the guild meeting flitted through her mind, there was a reason she had not promised either Kate or Olson she'd come home. There was always a chance a well placed attack would take her life without any chance to avoid it.

 

Light flashed again, pulling her concentration, the man in front of her pulled a face at the bright flash.

 

“Val’kyr do not give in easily.” He muttered. She turned her attention back to him. Her mouth opened to speak and she stopped. The thought passing through her head blurting out instead.

 

“What in the Fel do I call you.”

 

He cocked his head to the side, violet eyes watching her. “Call? I am the Twilight Scales. You prefer to shorten it to The Scales.”

 

She shook her head, “that's the name of the shield, an object, you are a person. At least right now. That's just... strange, to call someone that.”

 

He let out a rumbling laugh. “You find out you have died, again, and that your weaponry has a sentient mind. And the thing you find strange is the name you call me?”

 

She grinned sheepishly. “Put like that is maybe a small thing compared to everything else. It still doesn't seem right to call you the name of an object.”

 

He shook his head, a fond smile on his face. “While I do enjoy the Twilight Scales moniker. If it would help…” his voice trailed as he thought a moment before nodding sharply to himself. “Arcath. It's a draconic word, the rough translation is 'spellscale’”

 

“Arcath.” She repeated slowly, testing the name. “Fits,” she says with a light laugh after a moment. “So the Light, you think that's a Val'kyr?”

 

“It's specifically trying for your soul. I don't know for sure what it is. But I don't want to risk it.” He grinned, “just because you couldn't promise your return to your family, doesn't mean I can't try to keep that promise myself.”

 

She blinked, taken aback that he was aware of that conversation. The blackness lightened around them, amber light flaring around them before streaking towards her. Arcath started forward, his shout drowned out by a howl that filled her with a frenetic energy…

 

Pain lanced through her, so sharp that it brought air rushing through her in a harsh gasp. Her sight slowly focused. She was out of the dark blackness of Arcath’s realm. The dragon himself was gone and Resileaf’s relieved face looked down at her. Energy filled her even as the pain faded to a dull ache. She felt the connection with the Scales reassert itself and relief flooded her, both her own and something else. She saw a large wolf fighting a pit lord as the rest of the forces swarmed Karthok.

 

She forced herself to her feet, walking forward to join the melee around Karthok. She knew after a few moments she would not be able to. He still vanished and reappeared, she didn't have the energy to keep up. There was one way to fight still, she ignored the concern flowing through the connection with the Scales and started the jumps again. The healing from the ancient bolstered her and made her exhaustion less noticeable.

 

Pain ricocheted down the bond, tearing a scream of pain from her mouth and forcing her to her knees. She growled and forced through it just in time to see a wave of black flowing from Karthok's decimated body…

 

------------------

She fell forward, as if she had been running. She pulled in air in great gulps, wide eyes staring at the ground. A false vision, a nightmare, thank the Light. A nightmare; the destroyed city, her sister dead because she felt so sure it was a false clone or dreadlord. And Olson; sweet, loving and caring Olson, decrying her as Kate's murderer. More willing to stay and be slaughtered by the enemy than leave with her. A nightmare, just a nightmare.

 

Kathok cackled and spoke, the words washing over as she tried to come to grips with what she had just seen.

 

“Fitting that I should fall amongst such titans, isn't it?" Karthok stands, looking over the massive corpses of Accalia and Arkhorne, holding his stomach with one arm. "After all I've gone through, all I've accomplished, dying with gods is the least I deserve." He turns towards the others, looking them all over. "You people... I tore you apart... broke you. Even if you don't show it, I know. I know you all better than anyone else in your lives. I know what you're all made of, what you're really like. Creatures of chaos, of choice." He chuckles. "Order... you hate it. Loathe it. Even if you don't admit it. In order you have no choice, no options. But in the chaos, you're free. Just like me."

Shokkra shakes herself off from her own nightmare and starts up towards where Karthok is. "I'm a part of you now. I'm your fear, your doubt, your choices. You'll carry me until the day you die and beyond. You'll never forget me, never forget what I did, who I was, what you are because of me." He laughs again, louder this time. "I'm the chaos inside you, now and forever." The orcess comes up behind him, pulling her revolver. She grabs him by the shoulder and pulls him into her arms, holding him tightly. She shuts her eyes, handing him the gun. He hugs her back, taking the revolver in hand and casting a shadow over Shokkra for an instant. Karthok looks towards the others, pointing the gun at them and flipping it open to check how many rounds he has. He laughs.

"I earned this." He aims the revolver back to himself, lifts his chin, and fires.*

 

The shot rings through the air and she looks up, a low growl of fury rumbling through her. She wanted to destroy him, to prove every cackling word wrong. He had ended it and taken that away.

 

Everyone was tired, emotionally and physically. Tense arguments and standoffs browled around her. She barely paid attention. She wanted to go home. She wanted to leave this Light forsaken rock and forget everything. She wanted to see Kate, to know she was alive. She wanted to see Olson and know he didn't hate her. She wanted away.

 

She breathed a sigh of relief when the airship they arrived on made it back and docked to allow them on board. She could go home.

 

_________________________________

She should be used to issue with sleep. Night terrors threaded themselves through her life for as long as she had remembered. From the nightmares spawned of her uncertainty regarding her parents death right after Strathome, to the ones of Dominic until she finally was able to slay his specter herself.

 

She let out a strangled sound, somewhere between a sob and a gasp for air, and sat up in bed. Her sheets tangled around sweat soaked limbs and her nightgown. She breathed in deeply, lavender oil filling the air and soothing the frazzled nerves from the dream. Had she escaped Karthok’s nightmare truly? Or was she just granted a reprieve in her waking moments? Were they waking? There were moments when she wasn't sure if she had ever left the battle torn rock in the Maelstrom.

 

She tried to calm her racing heart, feeling the incoming panic attack. Those she should also be used too, while it had been a while since a full flash back it didn't mean there hadn't been smaller bouts of anxiety. She bent over in a fetal position, her breaths came in harsh gasps as the pain of the nightmare raced through her. Harsh sobs threaded through the gasps of air. She gave up on trying to hold back the attack and riding it so she could try to regain her ability to breath.

 

Black started to creep into the edge of her vision as the sobs quieted and her breathing evened. Sleep of course was still well out of reach. She stood, climbing out of bed and walking to a window. She grinned, the expression both tired and fond, as she remembered teasing words to Kate.

 

“Do I have to worry about leaving the blinds on my bedroom window? It does face your bedroom.”

 

She knew she'd regret the question as soon as it was asked. Kate said nothing, her only answer was a wicked grin that reflected the mischievous glint in her eyes.

 

“That's a yes.” Myaka said with a bark of a laugh.

 

The fond grin faded sharply. Anxiety rose again, was she sure her death was a nightmare? A want to go to the house and bang on the door swelled in her, she forced it down. Light knew that would just wake up Zak and Kate, not to mention the three children. The stone was an option, but would also wake the two up. She glanced at a clock and let out a breathless sigh. Far too early for anyone to be awake.

 

All this worry was for nothing, morning would come and she'd see that. She was too wired to go back to sleep, soft padding footsteps took her downstairs. Her latest smithing project sat on her table, it would be a good way to calm down and hopefully get back to sleep. She ignored the fact that this was the second time in so many nights that she had been unable to sleep halfway through the night, she'd didn't have time to worry with the fight in Antorus nearing it's end.

__________________________________

The months past sped their way through, december bleeding into January that then gave into the warming months of spring. Winter’s veil danced into Love is In The Air and soon the Lunar Festival loomed on the horizon.

 

Myaka let out a low breath, brown eyes traveling up the sword left by Sargaras. It had nearly stopped her heart when she saw his sword flying towards Azeroth. They had won, a long fought battle that pushed everyone as far as they could go. The combined forces of the Horde and Alliance needed to bring the fallen titan to ruin. Was it all for nothing?

 

She shook her head, pulling her thoughts from the dark path they went down. Her mind wandered easily recently. She reached up, plated hand rubbing absentmindedly against her chest. The strange pain was back, there had been a twinge of pain when she flew home to see to Kate after the end of the fight. A slight scraping sound of metal on metal played through the infested air. She supposed it didn’t matter that she couldn’t actually touch anything though the plate. She never actually felt a wound or anything that was causing the pain.

 

Exhaustion pulled at her mind momentarily. The nightmares had not lightened, if anything, they got worse. Sleep only came in the first few hours of the night and after she made do with naps. Silithus became an easy distraction, one she hoped would give her enough time until the nightmares went away.

 

She tried to believe that, she wouldn’t let Karthok have his victory. She wouldn’t let him win.

 

She could almost make herself believe it.

((*Karthok's speech is word for word from the RP, because I didn't want to mess up it's malice by paraphrasing haha))

Edited by Myaka
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