Pix’s note: Part of this is a collaboration; Siasha gave me her thoughts about the events following her meeting with Lelissa and Esmerellda, but they were a little chronologically misplaced compared to where we are now. So, I made a few changes to get it a little more caught up, and added it to the end… anyway, you’ll see. Enjoy!
Siasha sat at her sewing table, inspecting a tear in a delicate purple shirt. It was one of her favorites, a gift from last yearâ€™s Winterâ€™s Veil celebration, and the tear in the elbow bothered her a great deal. Reaching over to her kit, she casually read the colors on the labels, finding the thread she had dyed especially to match the shirt. Finding it, she began to draw it out when the hairs on her neck tingled; she was no longer alone.
Turning, she threw up her hand, her lips moving with the words of a binding, capturing the demon standing in the doorway behind her. Reflexively, she flexed her fingers, sending fel energy through the bind, designed to cause pain to the trapped demon. The demon shrieked, back arching in pain, and Siasha recognized the voice.
â€śFierevere? Is that you?â€ť Siasha released the binding, and the succubus dropped to her knees on the floor.
Fierevere grimaced, shuddering as the dark binding left her body and the pain faded. â€śMy mistress sends her request for your aid, Siasha Thimblewidget. She knows of Malyss and Lelissa, and has seen Lelissaâ€™s death. She asks that you join her in Southshore.â€ť
Siasha looked back down at the shirt, shaking her head. â€śTell Valyra that Iâ€™m not going. Iâ€™ll have nothing to do with this.â€ť
â€śShe says that she needs your assistance for the ritual. She cannot think of anyone else who has the skill.â€ť
â€śThen sheâ€™ll have to find someone else who does. I will not be a part of this. Going up against Malyss is suicide.â€ť
â€śThat will be all, Fierevere. Send her my best regards. Hopefully sheâ€™ll live long enough for us to meet again after all this foolishness.â€ť
Fierevere frowned, thinking of what Valyra would say… or do… to her once she returned, but she couldnâ€™t worry about that now. She had to seek out another before the day was out. Enveloping herself in fel energy, she sent herself hurtling through the nether once more to continue her mission.
Siasha felt Fierevere leave, felt the pull of fel energy from that portal, and let out the breath she had been holding. With it went all her emotions; her anger and frustration, her fear and panic, her hopes and wishes, all for her doomed friend. The weight of it was too much, and it bowed Siashaâ€™s head over that shirt, Lelissaâ€™s gift, staining the fine silk with her tears.
Esmerellda sat, staring out of the window of her cabin in Elwynn Forest. It had been decidedly empty ever since Lelissa had gone, leaving Fateâ€™s Legacy for Purgatory in the months before. She hadnâ€™t heard from Lelissa since, and it had left a void behind. Her friend was gone. Esmerellda sighed, part sadness, part wistfulness, but mostly frustration. Why hadnâ€™t she stayed in touch? Didnâ€™t her friends matter anymore?
Esmerelldaâ€™s unease and depression had affected the cabin, as well. The flowers of her garden had long since died away. Lack of tending and care had turned the soil into nearly barren dirt, occupied only by the weeds that had taken over long before. Dust was thick on the furniture; since she rarely came here, there was no point in keeping it tidy. There wasnâ€™t anyone to share it with.
An hour had passed since Fierevere had left, and still Esmerellda felt her emotions tearing at her, first in one direction, then another. She was needed to help Lelissa? Why should she? Lelissa had left nothing behind but an empty home and a tabard that no longer mattered to her. Esmerellda held that tabard now, like she often had in the past weeks, thinking and dwelling on what had happened. Anger gripped her suddenly, her face contorted with grief and rage as she stood and began to swing the tabard wildly about, taking out her frustration on the air.
Esmerellda sobbed, raged, railed and cried as the tabard whipped through the musty cabin, stirring up dust and knocking over vases and framed pictures. One wild swing coiled around a bedpost, and something small, red, and round shot out from the tabard, striking the wall with a sharp crack before falling to the floor in halves. Shocked into calm by the sudden event, Esmerellda walked over to the object, her eyes wide in surprise and curiosity.
Reaching down to pick up the two halves, she recognized the object. A small ruby, taken from a ring sheâ€™d given to Lelissa to repair some time ago. Lelissa had replaced the cracked ruby with a new one, but had apparently kept the flawed stone. Holding the halves in her hand, she inspected the tabard a little closer. On the inside, just over the heart, Lelissa had a padded pouch sewn in to hold the stone. Probably sewn by Siasha, judging by the stitching â€“ Lelissa never was much of a seamstress.
Sighing heavily, Esmerellda walked over to the trunk at the foot of the bed. Opening it, she reached inside and took out her armor, unworn and unused for some time. It shone slightly underneath a thin layer of dust, and Esmerellda frowned.
It wouldnâ€™t do to go out looking like that.
Siasha stood on the dock in the Dalaran sewers, staring into the iridescent water as though trying to see something beyond it. The rats were her only company as they skittered around her, seemingly ignorant of her presence. Her tears were long since gone, cried out long ago. Unfortunately for the rats, that sorrow was being replaced by frustration, made worse by their incessant squeaks and scrabbling.
Stomping her foot in anger, she felt the fire building inside her, and released it in a wave of destruction. The rats who werenâ€™t smart enough to flee when she stamped her little foot were incinerated, flesh roasted away, leaving behind only blackened bones and smoldering fur. Sighing, Siasha sat down on the deck dejectedly, her anger somewhat vented, but still burning in the back of her mind. Grumbling, she picked through the corpses, tossing charred bones into the sewer waters.
â€śValyra is insane. Going after Malyss is the stupidest idea ever,â€ť she said to the empty sewer. â€śActually, I take that back. My brotherâ€™s dragon-milking machine was the stupidest idea ever. But Malyss is going to kill them all. Theyâ€™re walking into a death trap. The whole idea of anyone going with her is stupid.â€ť
Her brow furrowed as she stared into the water, the stillness interrupted only by another bone. She shook her head, hand poised to toss in a burnt ribcage. â€śI would be stupid to go.â€ť
Finally with a huff and an exasperated sigh, she stood, wiped her ashy hands on the edge of her robe and trudged across the slimy boards to the firmer footing of the stone ramp leading up to the brighter areas of Dalaran. “I’m an idiot.” There was a great deal of work to do if there was any hope of any of them surviving this suicidal attempt and very little time.
Siasha stood before the glowing portals with wavering images of the Alliance cities visible in the depths of each one. Decisions, decisions…
Her own library and workroom were in Ironforge. There wouldn’t be much more she could glean from that resource and most of the relevant books were still in the inn anyhow. She’d have to send her minions back there to retrieve them before someone either attempted to steal them or open them out of curiosity. She wasn’t going to pay the innkeeper to repair a charred hole in his floor again.
It would have to be Stormwind. Perhaps the trainers and older warlocks that kept their workrooms in the basement of the Slaughtered Lamb could give her some insight. Besides what she’d discussed with Esmerellda and Lelissa earlier, Siasha knew that her own skills weren’t up to a test of the magnitude that Malyss had become. She would have to retrain into a different discipline.
A shame, really. The intricacies of the Affliction path were such fun. However, Malyss being what she was, Siasha would either need a great deal more direct firepower or a more powerful minion. Perhaps even both. In any case, she would have to let the other officers of Fate’s Legacy know that she would be unavailable for the guild’s battle groups for the foreseeable future.
With a wrinkle of her nose, Siasha Thimblewidget stepped through the portal to the human’s home city and hoped the taller ones would look down once in a while for a change.