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| Details |
| Author: | Saaron |
| Summary: | Sandy receives a mysterious invitation. The people he meet make him an offer: to welcome him into the Cult of Forgotten Shadows. |
| Rating: | T for Teen |
Sandy knew he shouldn’t do this. He knew it was terribly dangerous. He knew it was reckless. Especially after everything that had happened to him.
…
But he was also in desperate need of some adventure. After being pushed aside from the Squads, and after his time spent as a prisoner, he just needed something new, risky… fun.
And that letter he got, inviting him to the sewers of Dalaran promised just what he needed. The envelope showed no address, no name. He saw that black bird - a raven, he’d assumed - dropping it at his window.
He thought it a mistake, until curiosity got the better of him and Sandy opened the letter. His name was written on it. It was a letter for him, and him only. That, the letter’s writer had made sure to specify more than once.
This was an anonymous invitation - one which specified a time, a place, a guest - Sandy - but no host. The young man knew nothing of the sender. How enticing it all was! He kept his meeting secret - no one could know. Not his mother, not Gwenivene. No one.
In a way, he wondered if the people he loved had been behind that letter. Maybe it was all a big surprise - they’d noticed how much Sandy had missed going on adventures, and they decided to give him one that would lead to some sort of party! Meeting in the sewers wasn’t the most adequate place to celebrate, but his girlfriend was incredible at teleportation. He could very well be following clues in there to magically end up in a perfectly decorated garden, with his friends there, ready to laugh and be happy, all together!
Regardless, Sandy was intrigued and excited about whatever was awaiting him down there. He slipped out of his family’s tower in the middle of the night, hidden under a dark cloak. His prosthetic leg had made some clicking noises at the beginning, but he could now move perfectly stealthily. And so he did, disappearing into the streets of Dalaran.
As he faced the sewers, he took a deep breath and walked inside, lighting up a torch. He disappeared further and further into the darkness, following a map he’d received with the letter.
It smelt terrible. Sandy had never been inside of sewers, as far as he knew! He covered his face with his sleeve, hoping to keep the stench out of his nose. At some point, his torch became unnecessary - a market stood in front of him, with goblins commercing. He had no idea there was such a place in Dalaran! He walked fast, away from here, still a little scared of goblins.
Sandy stopped. He knew he only had one more turn to take to reach the meeting place. He knew whoever wanted to meet him was just there. The excitement he felt had disappeared somewhat instantly as he approached, replaced by apprehension. But that was good. He needed this. This feeling of adventure…
Sandy quickly shook his head, and took the turn into the darkness.
There he saw two figures, slender, slouching, lit up only slightly by the faint glow of light green torches on the walls. Between them stood some sort of stone table - an altar. Sandy took a deep breath and approached them, the orange glow of his torch quickly overpowering theirs and revealing their features.
He took a step back. These people were both Forsaken, just like Sirie. He could see their rotting skin, their bones poking out, and the gray flesh of their body.
“Be not afraid,” said one of them, a man, standing to the side of the altar. “We only wish to speak with you, Lord Gausanders Spellbond.”
Sandy didn’t answer. He took a few more steps back. He was not going to be bitten by one of them. Not again!
“Well, allow us to introduce ourselves before running away,” the Forsaken said in his deep, hoarse voice. “Here stands before you Dark Cleric Oryena, of the Cult of Forgotten Shadows.” The female Forsaken bowed her head, silently, from behind the altar. Her two bright, glowing yellow eyes never left Sandy. “I am Brother Cynric, also of the Cult of Forgotten Shadows.”
“If-” Sandy’s voice broke, the fear not dissipating despite their introductions. “If this is about my mother, Sirie, I-”
Brother Cynric raised his hand to stop him. “We want nothing to do with one such as her who gives in to her dark impulses and digs deeper and deeper into destruction.”
Somehow, Sandy was reassured by that. They could have been sent here by her - heck, maybe if he’d kept walking away, he would have bumped into her! However, this man seemed to find no joy in speaking of Sirie, and, ever-so-slightly, Sandy’s shoulders relaxed.
“Lord Gausanders, by coming here tonight, you’ve proven yourself… acceptable to us.” Brother Cynric crossed his arms, his white claws tapping on the bones of his elbows. “With so little information, meeting us - that was taking a leap of faith into the shadows. Which Dark Cleric Oryena and I can certainly appreciate…”
Sandy took a few tentative steps forward, approaching the two Forsaken. He paused, a shiver running down his spine. Now that he could see her more clearly, he understood why Cynric had been doing all the talking. The human’s eyes widened at the sight of her lips shut tight with thread. “What… do you want from me?” he managed to mutter.
The two Forsaken exchanged a look, and Oryena nodded. She still stared at Sandy, as unmoving as a statue, sitting in a stone chair. With elbows resting on the armrest, she pressed the fingers of both her hands against one another in front of her face.
“Allow us to present what we offer you first, instead,” Cynric said, approaching Sandy. “We are willing to lett you into our Cult.”
Sandy stared at him in confusion, but he didn’t stare too long. He couldn’t look away from Oryena for a long time. Her gaze really made him uneasy.
“As a warlock, you must think yourself used to working with the Shadows. However, ‘working’ is giving that word too much leeway. You forcefully take it from the Twisting Nether and manipulate it into destructive forces,” Cynric explained. Sandy listened, his eyes regularly darting the way he came from, still wondering if running away was his best option. “See, as beings rejected by the Light, many of us who used to be priests or paladins turned to the Shadows. We have a natural affinity to it - one you lack as a living human.”
That was it. They were going to kill him now. They wanted to get him closer to the shadows, or whatever, and for that, he needed to be dead and brought back and-
“Nevertheless, even as a human, you’ve shown yourself quite attuned to the energy we worship. We’ve heard of a… whispering ink incident,” Cynric raised an eyebrow inquisitively at Sandy, who didn’t answer right away. He didn’t know what to answer. He didn’t know what they wanted from him.
“I… Yeah, I made that whispering ink once, but that was an accident, and I haven’t done anything like this since!” he finally blurted out.
“Well, what do you say we hone your skills with the Shadows? This way, we ensure such an accident never happens again.”
“You would… teach a human?” Sandy asked, his brows furrowed in confusion again.
The two Forsaken exchanged a look, Oryena smirked before her gaze fell back onto Sandy, pressuring him once more.
“Of course. After all, the one whose teachings are the foundation of the Cult of Forgotten Shadows is a human herself,” Cynric explained, sharing in Oryena’s smile.
“I’m… sorry. It’s a, um… nice offer! But I’ve been thinking about not being a warlock anymore because I’m afraid I’ve corrupted myself too far…” Sandy scratched the back of his neck, stepping backward, ready to leave as soon as he was done excusing himself. “If I stop working with the Fel, it’s not to start working with the Void…”
Oryena grunted, tilting her head backward and furrowing her brows at him. Cynric matched her answer and scoffed in contempt.
“I see you have learned much from the Church of the Holy Light,” he said, approaching the altar and standing somewhat between Oryena and Sandy. “The Shadow is as much of a corrupting force as you allow it to be. One of the main teachings of the Cult of Forgotten Shadows is to keep a certain distance from the energies you manipulate. We don’t allow our members to be corrupted. Those who dare go too far into the darkness are to be stopped, as they are not coming back regardless. Our faith is one of balance.”
Sandy visibly relaxed at Cynric’s clarifications, as did Oryena. She sat up straighter, resting her hands on the border of the armrest, and crossed her legs. The human shook his head at her, although it had been Cynric explaining things to him this entire time.
“Balance? What do you mean by that?..” Sandy asked.
“Our cult teaches that the Shadows are just as important as the Light. Both are the source of all that lives - the materials making our world. In truth, what you call ‘reality’, the physical world, is what we call ‘The Shadow’.” Cynric explained calmly, but his face turned to anger as he continued. “The living cherish the Light but shun its counterpart. They worship that which isn’t them, that distant, immaterial Light. We as shadow priests, worshippers of the Shadow, remind ourselves that is it us - material beings - who matter.” He began getting progressively more excited as he spoke, his voice was raised, and veins began to show on the sides of his face. “We are the ones who change the world. We make history! It is our power, our will, not the Light, that shaped civilizations! We made th-!”
Oryena loudly tapped her claws onto the armrest and raised her hand, stopping Cynric in his tracks. He turned to Sandy, to see him wide-eyed, the torch’s fire flickering in his shaky hand. Cynric instantly calmed down, clearing his throat.
“That is what our Cult stands for. Balance. To bring to the forefront what has been forgotten; the power of the individual, not the divine,” Cynric concluded.
Sandy furrowed his brows ever-so-slightly, deep in thought. What was presented to him piqued his interest, that was for sure, but the people making that offer were less than trustworthy. His only experience with a Forsaken went horribly wrong, and regardless of their organization’s associations, they were part of the Horde, and he the Alliance. Who’s to be sure it wasn’t a trap, or they weren’t going to use him in some evil plans? And maybe he wouldn’t realize it before it was too late? On the other hand, after the corruption he had allowed inside himself by making pacts with otherworldly creatures, relying on his own strength and power to help the Company did sound nice…
“So… if I were to join you, would there be any problem with me helping Cobalt Company? I mean, whether it’s because it’s forbidden, or if it’s too time consuming…” he asked, scratching the back of his head. Cynric turned to Oryena for confirmation, which she gave with a dismissive wave of her hand.
“Not at all. The Cult is not as stratified as the Church. You will not actually receive orders, or be sent on missions by the Cult - not unless you wish to,” Cynric joined both of his hands as he spoke, tentatively approaching the human. He took notice that Sandy wasn’t walking away anymore. “In fact, you would not really have superiors in the Cult, in the way humans have archpriests. Some of us hold more powers than others, that is certain…” he extended a hand towards Oryena, who was still staring at Sandy. “But that is only because they’ve amassed more followers, or shown themselves more powerful. Once again, the people are the ones holding the power, and any hierarchies built amongst the Cult may change at any time - it only need individuals strong enough to shake things up.” Cynric clapped his hands back together once more, making a weird sound as the bones hit each other. “So no. Train with us, learn with us, acquire power, aid you friends with said power, and eventually, maybe, start your own section of the Cult amongst humans, sharing our knowledge to them. After all, as I told you before, the point of the Cult of Forgotten Shadows is that Shadow priests and their power are necessary for the survival of this world,” Sandy looks at Oryena, who finally seemed to communicate with him. She simply nodded her head, as a sign of approval for everything Cynric had explained.
“O- okay, I get what you offer now,” Sandy answered. “Now please, can you answer my question? What do you want from me? If it’s to share your religion to others, I’m not a priest. I’m not wise enough to do that…”
Oryena smirked.
“That we are aware of, but we are willing to teach you wisdom,” Cynric said, chuckling. He turned to Oryena, who nodded to him to, and with a hand gesture, invited him to proceed. “What we would truly get from our collaboration is knowledge.”
“Eh, I don’t think there’s anything to learn from me, really! I’m not… the brightest warlock around! I’m sure I can find someone with the WEB, if you’d li-” Cynric interrupted Sandy with a laugh.
“No, you misunderstand. Your knowledge is useless to us. To go back to what we offer you, it is refinement of your destructive connection to the Shadows. A warlock’s way are… clumsy to us, at best. The knowledge you could give us are… books,” Oryena impatiently tapped her fingers on the stone, making a loud ticking noise. Cynric looked at her - he knew he had to hurry now. “As you’re, I’m sure, well aware, the Spellbond had many traditions; one of them was for the women born in the family to join the Kirin Tor, while the men turned to priesthood. That put them in a perfect position to accumulate knowledge.”
“Yeah, my mother’s libraries are full of rare books on both the Light and the Arcane. But I’m not sure they’d be any useful to you, now that you can come to Dalaran!” Sandy shrugged, shaking his head.
“Well, we believe they could. The human whose teaching were used to create the Cult of Forgotten Shadows had her written texts banned and collected by the Kirin Tor, in the hope of erasing the wisdom she provided the world once and for all. Some of them escaped the Kirin Tor’s censoring, however, which is why they were found in Lordaeron. And within a family linked both to the Church and the Kirin Tor, we believe there’s a possibility that some of her… writing were not-so-accidentally forgotten in those libraries,” Cynric says.
“Hmm… so what you want from me is to go look if there’s anything she’s written and to bring it to you? And for that you would… teach me how to better use the Shadows?”
“And much more, Lord Gausanders. As I’ve said - the Light, the Shadow - they’re to be used equally. As Forsaken, the Light is painful to use, but we may still teach it. A human like you could embody the balance our Cult seeks to bring the world.”
Sandy’s eyes widened. Was this Forsaken saying what he thought he was saying? Would they teach him how to use the Light? Like a priest? Was this even possible? His only experience in immediate contact with the Light were with the Naaru, and those gave him a headache. If they could really teach him to use it, that would be wonderful! Maybe he’d finally know that great, warm sensation everyone said they feel when they come near the Naaru!
“I… I’ll consider it,” Sandy said, shaking his head, uncertain if he should really consider that. Regardless, he knew that, right now, the safer option was to tell them what they wanted to hear. Who’s to say how they’d react if he had categorically refused? “I’ll think about your offer, and I’ll look for books from..?”
“Natalie Seline,” Cyndric nodded. “A wise decision, Lord Gausanders. Congratulations,” he added a bit cynically, while Oryena got up from her chair, approaching the opposite side of the altar. Placing both hands on it and leaning forward, she kept her eyes on Sandy, narrowing them. “Don’t take too long considering. Even if we are undead, we won’t wait for you for an eternity. Our patience has limits.”
Sandy nodded back. “I see. I’ll… yeah, I’ll tell you if I’m interested…” Sandy leaned to the side and fidgetted with a bolt on his leg. “Soon. I just… that’s a lot to think about, really!” He chuckled. The Shadows, the Light. Could it all be the next step? Could this really be what brings him back to the Squad - to adventuring, exploring, fighting?
He really had much to think about.
“Very well. You know where to find Dark Cleric Oryena and I, Lord Gausanders,” Cynric bowed, before quickly turning to face the other Forsaken, as if Sandy had already left. The human began walking away, and although the two undead ended up almost entirely in the green darkness, he could still feel Oryena’s glowing eyes on his back as he left this side of the sewers.