"Assedance and Love," was the only answer Ark gave. She had in the last week failed to find anything he would find acceptable. Ark knew freedom would have a price she was unwilling to pay. The beatings even with her gift of the naaru almost constantly active left it difficult to speak. Her tongue swollen from a lack of water only made it worse. Every third day she would be forced to drink until she thought she would drown. She learned this was to be her only liquid, so she had to hold it down.
"What do you see?" her master asked, calming himself further.
In truth due to her beatings, a lack of food, and water what little vision she had left was hazy and distorted. Her eyelids were slits. The drugs only made it worse, but she could make out vague shapes and she could see that her master was making himself larger. This shadowy winged thing started pounding the walls around her, and rocks flaked and fell off the sides.
"I thee anga." Ark said, knowing this was not the right response, but if her master was angry he might slip up. A mistake might give her a way out, a message she could send, something.
"You are right Ark." Another voice, not her alleged master came toward her.
The form seemed to step right out of the shadow, but with just the bright light and darkness elsewhere all was shadow, and light. It made it impossible to tell who came in magically or whether someone could walk here. Ark knew that a portal generator of some kind was here, because her reptilian guards left occasionally when an odd colored light or crystal burned above the one glaring in her face. If not for the difference in color she would not have known it was there. But did they need the portal to get here, or was that simply so there was no coming and going, Ark could not discern.
The new creature reached out a hand toward her master. An impossibly large arm and hand, or was that the drugs? She heard her master cry out briefly and then the creature dropped her master to the ground. Was this a new tormentor, or the master? The new tormentor tortured her, and asked about Ark's mother. Strange questions, "would Ark's mother care enough to save her?" 'Where was she, when Ark needed her?' Questions that made no sense with Ark's mother dead. It didn't matter the new tormentor kept asking, and punishing even when she told him what he wanted, and what he asked.
Ark blacked out yet again, it had been hours, perhaps days since she was last awake.
Noticing Ark was awake, "What do you want, consider the question?" The creature said again. "Consider the options." The creature approached her calmly and touched her cheek. The creature ran his hands through her hair. "You could have power," the creature said kneeling down to eye level with her in her present position. "Power to destroy the Burning Legion, don't you want that?" The voice was the same, but there was no torture this time.
"Nod at the pice youb ask." Ark realized she was clearly dealing with someone either less experienced or more motivated or both. He jumped straight to the end, and skipped the head games.
"You don't yet know my price." The creature responded in an almost jovial tone, as if he found her response funny.
"Ids too high." Ark said, and then the creature was gone.
Ark was no longer bound. It was not necessary. A guard simply grabbed her hands or feet, and hung her while she was questioned or tortured. Both of her legs were broken in several places. 'I might never dance again.' It was funny the things you think of when your whole world is dark. Her arms were excruciatingly painful to move. Both shoulders were out of socket, and probably other joints as well. Ark could not even crawl out of this hole, even if she wasn't under constant guard.
Ark thought about what she had learned. Whoever they were, they hated Neltharion Deathwing and the Burning Legion. They seemed very interested in her mother's childhood, her dranei mother.
Ark had not told them anything that was not common knowledge, but they seemed all too interested in life before the Naaru. Fortunately neither Ark, nor her mother knew much about that time. They had confirmed the rumors that Ark had enabled her mother to sleep without the Lich King's knowledge, but that was common knowledge now.
Ark refused to give the spell, but the matter was not pushed. Perhaps they wanted the old spells, the spells before the Light and the Naaru. They wanted the Eredar. But Ark didn't know any of those spells.
Ah but her mother did. Was that it? They wanted an eredar without all the trouble of summoning and controlling a member of the Burning Legion. Ark had access to her mother's memories, or maybe they wanted Ark to become her mother fully. They wanted to drive her mad so her other memories would take over.
Well it was all a guess, but it would explain why they would kidnap and torture a relatively nameless paladin. I mean sure she killed the Lich King, but it wasn't like she did it alone, and it nearly killed her. 'I am not so powerful as to go to this level. It would explain the trouble, but surely there were others, others more suited.'
But none that had so publicly used an eredar spell, nor so recently. No dranei would consider it, and no other race would have the knowledge.
Ark had not heard her guards in a long time. Their heavy breathing, heavy footfalls, seemed gone. Perhaps Ark could chance Moll-E, but then what. Sure she could contact her guild, but if they didn't understand her previous message, perhaps they all hated her. What if they had simply killed Verloren? Verloren was clearly an obstacle in their minds, when Ark spoke of her they almost spit bile they were so angry.
Ark had no idea who these people were. She had no idea where she was. She knew she was by a swamp, or close to one, but little else.
"Mrgglllgurgle!" Ark heard the sounds of, wait was that Murlocs?
A Murloc war party from the sound of it. With a great deal of luck, and the light on her side Ark hoped her message could get through. But she had to send something they could figure out this time. She wrote one last letter, and activated Moll-E to send it. It had to be short, the pain was too bad to write much.
To: Verloren
From: Arkadelphia
Subject: Swamp Murlocs
Verbear,
Love y
Ark passed out before she could send it. The drugs, the pain, and the constant mana drain prevented her from ever gathering strength.
A murloc scout had broken through the battle, a curious little thing with a spear and a helmet. He was to determine the size and power of the enemy force. He saw the broken blue lady, and the piece of paper in her hand. The murloc shoved the paper in the strange box, and the box went away. The murloc could do nothing about the light that made the place unbearable, but his orders were to observe and report in 1 day. The murloc found a hiding hole and waited. The rest of the party retreated a few minutes later.
"The murlocs want their cave back commander."
"I know, if she doesn't break soon we will have no choice, but a drone."
***
Ben walked around Stormwind bored and noticed a scarp of paper. He had taken to picking things up and throwing them away. He glanced at the paper as he was about to throw it in a fire.
Dragon Attack in the Swamp of Sorrows
A body with no tunic, no affiliation, and no other apparent motive was found with a crushed skull and dragon claw marks in the Swamp of Sorrow yesterday.
Asked for comment the dragons disavowed all knowledge, except for Chronormu who, while in his female gnome form said simply, "I can't tell you about that yet." It is assumed this is the work of Deathwing or his agents.
Officials found a small scrap of fabric in one of his wounds that seemed to have all color, and no single color, at the same time. Anyone with information is asked...
Ben knew that fabric. Verloren had to know about this. Ben ran to Verloren's room as quickly as his legs would carry him.
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