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| Details |
| Author: | Alli |
| Summary: | In the wake of grief, the Sunwalkers' mission takes on a new direction. Dezco is determined not to betray his promise, while Kor is still distracted by conflict. Meanwhile, Sela tries to hold on to hope for a brighter future. ~3800 words |
| Rating: | T for Teen |
In the faint pre-dawn light, Sela Sweetwater stands guard by the edge of the new Sunwalker camp, further west in the Wilds. They’re the better part of a day’s march from the old camp, but she can still feel the pyre smoke in her nostrils, the unwelcome scent clinging to her fur. Her eyes sting, and she tells herself it’s from all the recent fires and not the recent tears. She must be strong, especially now.
A faint whimpering sound comes from the central campfire, and Sela allows her gaze to be drawn to the midwife Nala and the two little bundles on the ground by her side. Their father Dezco stands a few paces away, keeping a closer watch on the infants than on the camp’s perimeter. Nala hums gently to soothe one of the baby boys, while she works mashed grain into freshly-boiled water. Sela can see the fear and worry in the tension of her broad shoulders, but against this threat there is little a brave can do to help.
Each person here still holds the dream of that golden valley in their heart, but their compass, their guiding light, is now gone. Despite all of Nala’s expertise, the combination of fever, a high-risk multiple birth, and the strange dark weight of this land was too much for Leza to overcome. She lived just long enough to hear Dezco swear he would protect their children. Then, her spirit left, joining her brother Chezin in whatever comes after. Dezco says she has joined the yeena’e, the ones who died giving life, those who herald the dawn.
The sky is brightening now, as far as she can tell from its filtering through the trees. It is hard to imagine a dawn in this place that is not cold, wet, and grey, but Sela tries. She tries to believe that the little ones will live, the infants they’re calling Redhorn and Cloudhoof for now. She tries to believe that Nala will keep them alive long enough for them to be given their true names, that Dezco will find a way to lead them all to safety. She will only have to hold faith for a little while, because there is not much time left to realize it.
“I don’t like how their cries are weakening,” Nala says quietly, as if reading Sela’s mind. “If it hadn’t been a multiple birth, the child would have more strength from his mother. Or if we had managed to delay labor for another week… we can’t linger here. We need to find them wet nurses today. Somehow.”
Dezco nods his head, turning his heavy gaze from the children to Nala. “It is lucky you had the grains with you.”
Nala snorts. “Luck had nothing to do with it. I knew we were going An’she-knows-where, and sometimes it takes longer than expected for the mother’s milk to come in. This was planning, but it was only in nightmares I feared it would come to this. May she rest in the Light.”
Dezco lowers his head for a moment in respect. Sela quietly does the same, echoing the respect, the grief.
The solemn moment is interrupted by the crunching of a branch, and Sela hastily snaps to attention in time to see Kor Bloodtusk approaching. His eyes smolder with fury and his armor is bloodied, and Sela’s heart pounds as she checks behind him for pursuit. She huffs out a low breath in relief when she sees there is none.
“What news?” Dezco says, rising to greet his friend. “Any signs of a village, a settlement?”
“No, nothing so helpful – I found Alliance,” Kor spits out, brushing past Sela into the camp. “Night elf sentinels, like that scout we saw earlier.”
Sela moves a hand to the hilt of her sword, the worry heavy on her brow as she turns back to scan the morning jungle more carefully.
“Did they attack?” Dezco asks in alarm, studying his friend’s furious expression.
Kor shakes his head sharply. “No, not yet, but their mere existence here…”
“Were any of them new mothers?” Sela interrupts, glancing back into the camp.
Kor turns to stare at her in bafflement, and Sela feels her cheeks warm beneath her fur.
“If they’re not attacking us, then that’s the only way I could see their existence here being relevant,” Sela persists, with a jerk of her head towards the infants before she turns back to the jungle.
“We are at war, though I know you Sunwalkers like to forget that fact,” Kor says irritably, but his rage seems to cool a little. He turns to Dezco and says dryly, “In case you were wondering, too, old friend – No, I did not ask our mortal enemies for a wet nurse. I couldn’t leave them there to attack us as we travel, so I set up an ambush with a handful of our Sunwalker scouts.”
Sela spins around in sudden horror, realizing the import of his lone return.
“The ambush did not go well, did it?” Dezco asks wearily, the deep sadness returning to his eyes.
“It would have, if we were not both of us ambushed by the mogu,” Kor says with clear reluctance. He has always been more fond of relaying news of his glories than his failures.
“Where are the others?” Sela bursts out, taking one step towards Kor. “Please, don’t say… our numbers have dwindled already…”
“Captured,” Kor says, raising a hand as if to soothe an agitated kodo. “I don’t know why, but they didn’t kill us or the Sentinels. They’ve got them trapped in some kind of runic prisons. We need to get our people back – but not the Sentinels. Maybe the mogu will at least handle that problem for us.”
Sela feels a knot loosen a little in her heart. Her companions are still in danger, but they aren’t lost. Not yet.
“Still, I wish you hadn’t…” Dezco looks again down at the infants and Nala, then back to Kor. “Whether I wish or not, what’s done is done. I’ll send a group to rescue them, and those of us here will break camp as soon as the children are fed. We won’t leave our people behind, but we can’t afford to linger here, not now.”
As the braves are roused and the camp comes alive with activity, Nala lifts Redhorn from his carrier. She positions him carefully against her chest as she gathers a small drop of panada on one finger. Redhorn whimpers, as if he knows instinctively that this will not be enough.
The Mogu
The Sunwalker braves slip quietly into the mogu camp from the jungle, warned in advance of the layout and where traps are likely to be found. Sela sidesteps an obvious one, a rune on the dirt that glows an angry red, and eyes a swirling portal as she ducks behind a crumbling rock column. She draws her sword, her blood tingling with anticipation and impatience. Then there is a shout, and the ground shakes with a heavy war stomp. The fight is on!
Sela springs forward into combat, flinging out a furred, three-fingered hand to burn the closest mogu reclaimer with Light before she buries her blade in his chest. The sounds of combat rise all around her, as the other braves attack.
This might not be anything like the ambush Kor imagined – especially because no Sentinel targets are involved – but at least the mogu had clearly not been expecting another strike from the jungle so soon. Sela keeps an eye out for prisoners, and each Sunwalker they free from a red rune joins the fight. A number of the rune-traps are empty, and there are no signs of the night elves Kor claimed were also taken. As she circles around another empty rune, she spots the body of a mogu reclaimer who appears to have been killed by some kind of animal, maybe a tiger.
Strange, she thinks, you’d think they’d be used to…
Her thought is interrupted by a living mogu who lashes a tether of energy into her back. Sela shouts as she feels the strength flow out of her sturdy limbs, and she starts to teeter backward. Then the tether breaks. Sela, her legs still wobbly, turns to see one of the former Sunwalker prisoners standing over the mogu’s prone form, wielding a heavy stick.
Sela shakes her head, drawing in a few breaths to steady herself, and smiles at him. “Thanks for having my back.”
“Thank you, for coming for us,” he says with an answering smile. “I didn’t want to find out what’s on the other side of those portals.”
“I’m glad we made it in time,” Sela says, and then considers him curiously. “Did the mogu send all the night elves through? Bloodtusk said they were captured as well.”
He shakes his broad head. “Another team came through to rescue them, before. They’re long gone by now.”
Sela blinks. “More night elves?”
“You would think, but no…” the Sunwalker makes a gesture with his three-fingered hands, something like a fluttering bird. “Some group in a blue tabard with white wings – a couple of dwarves, a man with a large lightning sword, some animals…”
“Some animals,” Sela repeats, blinking again. She sniffs the air, and it seems like there’s the faintest whiff of gunpowder and ozone. Maybe it’s her imagination. She shrugs. “They softened the mogu up for us, then. But they didn’t free any of you?”
“Well… we were planning to attack them,” the Sunwalker says, with a hint of regret in his voice. “I do not blame them for leaving us. I’m only glad that we are all free now – that whatever purpose the mogu had will not be served.”
“Let’s do one more sweep to make sure we did get everyone?” Sela says, clapping him briefly on the shoulder. “Then we need to get back to camp. It’s time to move.”
A Short Time Later, Back at the Camp
The Sunwalkers return to camp, both the rescuers and rescued, just in time to see the last pack placed on the back of a kodo. The camp is ready to travel. Dezco has the two infant carriers strapped securely to him, one on his stomach and one on his back. He quickly counts heads and then nods in relief.
“No one left behind,” Dezco rumbles in his low voice, and he addresses the returning group as he continues, “Now, we must leave together. While the rescue was underway, another of our scouts returned, this one with good news. To the west, and then to the north, there is a farming village. There will be help for Redhorn and Cloudhoof there. There must be.”
“I bet so,” Kor says, as he glances over the Sunwalkers to do his own head count. “But, my old friend, when will we have a better chance to strike at the mogu? They’re on the back foot now, unprepared for a swift counterattack. We could remove the threat they pose entirely. Then, if Hellscream’s force comes through here, they’ll face no opposition.”
Dezco stares at him blankly. “My children, Kor. They do not have much time.”
“Nala said they’d be fine for a few days,” Kor says, stepping closer and looking down at the sleeping, swaddled tauren baby lashed to Dezco’s stomach. “Besides, they’re your sons. They have your strength. They’ll endure – I’m sure of it.”
Nala clears her throat as she circles around from the other side of one of the laden kodos, and there’s no mistaking her glare at the orc. “Bloodtusk, I said they’d survive, as long as we found a wet nurse soon. I never said they’d be fine. We need to leave now.”
“Then leave,” Kor says, looking around at the gathered Sunwalkers. “We know where the village is, so we don’t need to travel all together. Give me a few braves, and I’ll organize a strike on the mogu. The rest of you head in the direction of the village, and we’ll meet you at the edge of the jungle.”
Dezco makes a sound of frustration, but then gestures at the gathered Sunwalkers. “I do not have time to argue with you. Fine, take those who would go with you, and do whatever counterstrike you want. The rest of us, we make for that village.”
Moving On
If there was any question of the priorities of the Sunwalkers, it is made clear by the paltry few who agree to attack the mogu at Kor Bloodtusk’s side. Most choose to accompany Dezco and his twins to the north, to find help for them and then to continue to search for the mysterious golden valley. The lack of enthusiasm on the tauren’s part does not dim Kor’s zeal, and he stalks off into the jungle ready for war.
Sela watches Kor go with a touch of foreboding, but she shakes it off to focus on the journey ahead of them. Dezco keeps the children slung to his own body, despite Nala’s warnings that it will be difficult for him to fight so burdened.
“There are others here to fight,” Dezco argues. “And I do not want to let these little ones out of my sight.”
It is a reasonable approach, Sela thinks. She knows what it is to cling desperately to those who remain, after such loss of family. Sela and Ishaya did much the same, to her memory, just after the centaur wiped out their clan. These days, she accepts Ishaya’s differences – her desire to be part of a larger society, her affinity for urban life. They may not walk side by side, but they are clanmates still, and that is forever.
So yes, it makes sense. Dezco’s eyes can be only for Redhorn and Cloudhoof, and Sela will task herself with guarding from approaching dangers. Tigers, Alliance, mogu, saurok… and there is no telling what other fatal dangers may lie in wait in this treacherous jungle. She must watch, and she must guard, and she must protect. That is all.
Through some combination of luck or constant vigilance, the traveling group moves safely to the west, meeting no dangers known or unknown. The afternoon is shifting to evening by the time they reach the edge of the wilds, where the dense trees fade into a welcome grassland reminiscent of Mulgore. Sela raises her muzzle to the warmth of the late day sunlight, taking a relieved lungful of fresh air, as the kodo draw to a halt.
It feels like waking from a nightmare, like the jungle and all its grief and tragedy can finally be left behind. Ahead of them is help and safety and sun, and… the rising hope in her breast falters. After everything they’ve been through, it seems almost too good to be true. Sela looks nervously to Dezco, only to see his jaw clenched with worry, his eyes scanning the jungle behind them. Ah, yes. Kor and his braves. They’re supposed to be here.
The tauren wait there for nearly an hour, as the tension of the communal silence grows ever heavier and more ominous. Then one of the babies makes a little sound of protest, and Sela begins to wonder if someone should say aloud what everyone must be thinking. Kor isn’t coming. Just as she draws breath to speak, several tauren emerge from the dim light of the jungle.
“There!” Dezco says, his eyes brightening as he counts those returning. Then his brow furrows as he realizes there is no orc amongst them. As soon as they’re in earshot, he calls, “Where is Kor?”
“Taken,” the leader of the braves says, lowering his head in shame. “We misjudged the enemy. They are strong, and we are few. We could not free him. I’m sorry.”
“I cannot leave him behind,” Dezco says, a bleak note in his voice. “I have lost my wife, my brother-in-law, and so many of our scouts. I cannot leave him behind.”
Nala looks at him sharply. “Then send people after him, if you must. The children need their father.”
“If he is no longer there, or no longer alive, I will return,” Dezco says wearily, untying Cloudhoof from his stomach and handing him to Nala. “I do not seek vengeance or bloodshed.”
Nala takes the child gently, and shakes her head. “The mogu will not care what you seek. They only offer death.”
Dezco takes Redhorn’s carrier off his back and hands it to Sela. She startles and takes the swaddled newborn gingerly, looking up at Dezco with apprehension. Did he pick her just because she’s a woman standing nearby? She does her best to support the baby against her own chest, humming softly.
“I know, and I wish he had not chosen this path,” Dezco says, gathering his weapons. “But since he has, I cannot move forward knowing I have left him to death or worse. And because it is dangerous, I can only risk myself. I trust you to care for the children, if I do not return.”
“We will go with you!” says one of the braves who brought the news, and a few others chime in as well.
Sela remains silent, holding the infant. She looks down at his furry little face, his wide, unfocused eyes. He doesn’t understand what’s happening. He doesn’t know he might lose everyone, everyone but his twin brother. He doesn’t know that his father chose this. The knowledge rests cold in her heart, even if she understands the desire to save a friend.
You’ll have us, the Sunwalkers, Sela thinks, curling protectively around the newborn, and turning away from Dezco and the others as they leave. Don’t worry, little one. Even if you lose your father today, you will still be loved.
This wait feels longer, as the sun sinks towards the horizon. Sela sits by the edge of the circled kodos, staring at the darkening jungle. Her arms grow heavy as she continues to hold the infant, rather than tying the carrier to her shoulders. Quietly, she hums a little tune she remembers from her own mother, lost to a centaur raid. The words were something about a frog and a lily pad, but she can’t remember them exactly anymore. It doesn’t matter. With or without words, the feelings remain.
When tauren forms finally emerge from the jungle once more, Sela rises to her feet, balancing Redhorn carefully. Dezco calls out in greeting, and the rest of the traveling group turns at the sound. Sela counts the same coming back as left, except…
There is an immobile form draped over Dezco’s shoulders. Kor Bloodtusk. Sela does not rush to Dezco, does not hand him his son. He can’t carry his children while he is carrying the dead.
“Kor! What happened?” asks Nala, stepping towards him with Cloudhorn. “Can he be…?”
“I have tried resurrection, but he is already gone,” Dezco says, and sighs deeply as he moves over to drape Kor’s body over the back of a kodo. “He was kept alive in a trap, to lure more of us to the mogu – together with a night elf woman. Between her people and ours, we foiled the trap, but… Kor and the woman were still killed.”
Sela stares at Kor Bloodtusk’s limp form. It is hard to see as the same orc who shouted, who raged, who fought. Who in the old days, before Hellscream, must have laughed more often, to have become so cherished a friend in Dezco’s heart. She had disagreed with him almost constantly, whether she spoke her disagreement aloud or not. But still… she wishes he’d had a chance to reach the golden valley, to become who he might have been there.
“We will get to the village,” Dezco says in a heavy voice. “And there, we will make another pyre. When they are weaned, my children will take the names of those we have lost. Kor, Chezin… they will not be forgotten.”
A Safer Haven
The seeming promise of safety and help ahead proves, at least in some ways, true. The group of Sunwalkers reach the pandaren farming village of Stoneplow, and the locals are immediately sympathetic to the infants’ plight. Before long, Kor’s funeral pyre sends its smoke into the wide blue sky, and Redhorn and Cloudhoof are safely nursing from generous pandaren mothers. As the days pass, the infants grow steadily, and Nala soon determines they have safely recovered from the effects of their early deprivation.
Stoneplow is not quite a perfect idyll, however. There are strange insect-like people that sent raiding parties over a damaged wall to the west, and many of the outlying western farmers have already retreated to the central village. Sela and the others help in the defense as they can, and otherwise try to steer clear of other outsiders.
Even with these interludes of combat, life feels easier here. Sela wonders if it has to do with gaining distance from the strange darkness that lies in the Wilds, the constant sorrow that seemed to drag at their steps and dim their eyes. Here in the Valley, with these peaceful farmers, it is easier to believe in the golden valley, in a future that holds something brighter than endless grief and hardship.
It is a day like any other when the peace of Stoneplow fully breaks. Sela is inside the hut they’ve been permitted, enjoying a lunch of skewers and rice, when she hears shouting and chittering from outside. She rushes out to see a sky filled with the flitting wings of the insect creatures, a veritable army coming over the wall. She joins the other Sunwalkers in rushing to arms and armor, as Nala moves to defend Redhorn and Cloudhoof. It isn’t long before Sela dives into the defense, ready to give her all to defend the people who have shown them such kindness, and who have saved Leza’s children.
As she fights, an unusual group passes by… Alliance. She pauses after striking the killing blow on a nearby insect-creature, and stares. They wear blue tabards with white wings, as the prisoners had described in the mogu ruins. Two dwarves, a night elf, two humans, and with them a leopard, a tanuki, and a beer-laden pandaren.
Sela catches the moment when they notice the presence of the tauren, and then Redhorn and Cloudhoof in their carriers. The human who seems to be their leader says something, and the dwarven woman answers. The other human man, with one eye obscured by an eyepatch, fixes the group of them with a cold stare that sends a shiver down her spine.
Sela shifts her grip on her sword, but then the Alliance simply pass them by. She lets out a breath, and takes a step to better place herself between Nala and the insect invaders. Perhaps these Alliance have learned, as she has, that the world carries too much danger already. There is no need to look for more.