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| Details |
| Author: | Saaron |
| Summary: | Brynia has a little "talk" with Selvuzen, who has been acting against her behind her back. |
| Rating: | M for Mature 17+ |
Brynia flies through the Twisting Nether, jumping from a green, floating rock, to the top of a grey tree which floats peacefully through that green and purple sky. She moves gracefully and swiftly in this everchanging, chaotic world. Just a matter of habit, for her. After thousands of years in the Twisting Nether, you end up being used to the way it works. Brynia likes it there, even. Journeying there is somewhat exciting, as you never know what to expect. You never know where you’ll step hoof next. She usually likes it.
It's not the case today.
Instead, the succubus has a deep frown. Her whole face is contorted in a look mixing many emotions. Anger, sadness, hatred. Her jaw is clenched, and an almost imperceptible growl comes out of it. The fact that her path keeps randomly changing and the place she lands on keeps changing is a hindrance.
Leaning against a Murloc hut, floating on a rock in the middle of a volcano is Selvuzen, grinning as he notices Brynia approaching.
“Back so soon, dear? Ah, no matter, it’s always a pleasu—”
“You…” she descends towards him at full speed, her hair moving briskly around her face. She grabs her whip and wraps it around Selvuzen’s neck. “Mother…” She lands a few feet away from him on the rock and pulls on the weapon, making the incubus fall to his knees. For all the anger that appears on Brynia’s face, his only answer is a blank stare right into her eyes, which angers her even more. “Fucker,” she screams as she walks up to him and punches his face with full force.
Crack.
Brynia doesn’t even look at the blood on her knuckles and at the red liquid pouring out of Selvuzen’s nose. She keeps him down with her hoof on the handle of the whip and hits. Again. Again. And again.
She is willing to hit him for as long as the rage inside of her keeps boiling, and she used to be a Highborne. Elves are famously known to hold grudges for an extremely long time.
Brynia raises her fist once more, ready to hit him again, but Selvuzen simply raises one of his hands in a sign of peace.
“I beseech you Brynia, cease,” he says, his voice soft and deep. The succubus lowers her fist. “As contractors to the same master, I reckon we should keep our relations – if not friendly as Sir Spellbond would prefer – civil.”
Brynia unwraps the whip from around his neck. He lets out a silent sigh of relief, but immediately after, the succubus kicks him in the face with the sole of her hoof, which sends him falling backward.
She tried. She really tried to listen to him for a second. But could anybody honestly blame her? The guy has a very punchable face, and his personality really doesn’t help. Plus, she would be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy hurting him.
He tries to get up, getting on all fours and spits out blood as one of his tooth fall to the ground. The world around them slowly morphs, and instead of a yellow lava bubbling and splashing is now a verdant forest, and the ground they stand on is now a tram like the one connecting Stormwind and Ironforge, traveling at full speed through the trees.
Brynia kicks Selvuzen once more, this time in the stomach, which sends him rolling to the edge of the platform.
Lying on his stomach, contorting in pain, Selvuzen now watches as the grass moves swiftly under the machine.
“E—enough,” the male Sayaad coughs up blood. “Have millennia as a demon numbed any common sense from you?”
She walks up to him as Selvuzen difficulty tries to get up using the railing. Usually, he towers over her, but as he struggles to get up and as she stands on top of a small flight of stairs, this time the incubus has to raise his head to look at her in the eyes.
“May I remind you that any wound you inflict upon me here is real?”
“Good,” she answers, leaning forward, raising her upper lip and revealing her fangs.
“I refuse to lay my hands on you in this dimension, Brynia. If a fight is what you truly desire, let us travel someplace else first.”
Brynia scoffs.
“Sure! Let me ask Sandy,” she turns slightly to the side, pretending as if the warlock is standing right there this whole time. She talks a cute smile on her face and her voice high-pitched. “Hi, Sandy! Hey, would you mind summoning both me and your newest friend, real quick? I just really want to gouge his eyes out of his skull with my horns.” She glares at the incubus, her voice going back to its lower register. “You might be more stupid than I first thought.”
Selvuzen chuckles softly.
“First of all, I’m grateful that you would consider my eyes jewels beautiful enough to adorn your horns,” seeing the look on her face, this is definitely not what she meant. “Second, I have to ask; where is all this rage coming from? Seeing you in this light… It is as unpredictable and fascinating as the magma when it streams do—”
“Shut the fuck up. You know what you did,” she tilts her head. “Or should I believe that there is nothing more to you than your hunky appearance? Just beauty. No brains?” She pauses and smirks, looking at him delicately wiping the blood from his face with his hand. “And no brawn either.”
Brynia conjures a white handkerchief out of thin air and cleans her knuckles. She then extends her hand holding the cloth towards Selvuzen but lets it go with the wind right as he reaches to grab it. She looks at him with the fakest of smiles as the handkerchief hits the side of the tram and turns into a butterfly that flies away into the Twisting Nether.
“You talked shit about me to the other Sayaads.” She glares at him angrily.
“And that would warrant the violence you have exhibited today?”
“They don’t trust me anymore. I am no longer welcome amongst the Sisters of Grief.”
Selvuzen takes a deep breath.
“I’m sorry to hear this,” he says, staring blankly at her and his tone sounding fake. “However, you must be aware that I didn’t… ‘talk shit’. Rather, I listened and weighed in on the concerns they held already.”
Brynia clenches her fists again and all the muscles in her body tense. She’s more than willing to punch him again, and he notices.
“Brynia, as a Sayaad, you truly are remarkable,” hearing him say this doesn’t make Brynia relax in the slightest. “You’ve broken so many warlocks, inflicted so much pain on so many worlds…”
“But?” she says, raising an eyebrow.
“However, you must admit, the way you’re working with Sandy isn’t really the modus operandi we are accustomed to from you.”
The succubus shakes her head and rolls her eyes.
“That’s because Sandy is more useful to us alive than dead. You have no idea the amount of valuable information I got from him. Especially when I was the one writing his journal, which isn’t the case anymore since these idiots in that Company have made him warier of us.”
Selvuzen nods, a rictus appearing for just an instant on the side of his mouth.
“No, I have no idea. Precisely. You haven’t really been talkative about this… sensitive information you claim to gather.”
The world morphs again around them. They don’t even seem to notice anymore. This time, they stand inside of a Draenei building, with furniture and objects of the human kingdoms floating around in the room. Brynia stands on a chair that floats and spins in the air like a bubble. In any other world, she would have fallen already.
“One of us must break Sir Gausanders, and if you won’t rise to the challenge, Brynia, I will.”
The succubus jumps from her chair and slams Selvuzen against a passing-by glass closet. The glass breaks, but the furniture’s shadow seems weirdly immobile.
“Don’t you fucking dare, Selvuzen,” she growls. “Jhuuthun may believe he’s in charge of our team, but I am. Not you, not the stupid Felguard.”
She grabs a piece of the glass floating around that she holds to his throat.
“And if I say we need to keep him alive and well-liked in the Cobalt Company for now, we do nothing to go against that, got it?”
“Or what?”
Brynia smiles.
“Sweetie, I spent thousands of years hurting and killing people. I know exactly how to do one without the other, by now.”
She runs the piece of broken glass on his chest, leaving a surface-level cut from which a few droplets of blood slowly run. The succubus watches the red liquid escaping from Selvuzen’s body, biting her lower lip.
“I’ll make you wish you died the day you got caught by the Legion, instead of being turned into one of us.” She narrows her eyes, looking straight into his. “I don’t have anything else to lose, you know. The Sisters of Grief reject me now, and that’s all because of you and your… valuable input.”
The closet disappears, turning into fog and Selvuzen takes a few steps back away from Brynia and the glass shards.
“And do you sincerely believe torturing me will make you regain their faith?”
Brynia shrugs.
“No, but I think that everything going according to plan will make them see that there was never a reason to stop trusting me to begin with.”
“I guess I’ll have to be patient to eventually see what your grand machinations are, dear,” he says after scoffing. He approaches her once more and strokes her cheek with his hand. “My only wish is for it to be worth the wait. No one likes a tease, Brynia.”
The succubus grabs his index finger and bends it backward.
Another crack noise. Selvuzen lets out a pained groan this time.
“Don’t you dare touch me,” she growls in-between her teeth.
“Very well,” he says, clasping his hand on his other one. “Farewell, Brynia.”
He walks into the thick mist behind him, spreads his wings, and takes flight, throwing one last blank stare at Brynia as he does. She watches him fly away, the world slowly shifting again into an emptiness, with a sky of green and purple hues. When she considers that he is far away enough, she sighs.
“I know you’re here, Grimnos.”
Inside the shadow of a flying rock materializes the Voidwalker, letting out a long, drawn-out sigh of despair.
“I know, he’s such a dickhead. This one’s definitely going to be a problem. All because of these idiotic warlocks now making pacts with Incubi…”
She pauses, staring at Grimnos’s gauntlets.
“You know what? I think I’ve got a job for you.”
“I am Dragon?”
She pretends it didn’t ask this nonsensical question, her eyes still on the gauntlets.
“Yeah, I can definitely work with that, you’re just who I need to make sure Sandy stays on the path we need him on,” she says, a smirk drawing across her face.
Grimnos spreads its arms to hug her.
“Okay, yeah, no, don’t push it.”
The Voidwalker lowers its arms.