Prologue: Confronting Your Demons
Dark looming trees blocked the light from the moon and stars, and only a sickly green light showed the form of two women. The first crouched, feet and hands on the wood below her, staring straight ahead. The smaller of the two dangled her legs from the branch above the other; it wouldn’t have taken more than a stretch to kick the long-eared woman’s curled horns.
“Really, Tris? You made me come all the way out to Felwood to stare at a hole in the ground from a hilltop.” The red-headed woman tightened her ponytail, then pinched the bridge of her nose. She stared down sourly and debated on whether the horns or her wrapped feet would win if she kicked the elf in hopes of knocking her from the tree.
The blind-folded gaze stayed on the opening in the hill in front of them, purple hair falling in front of it, but not seeming to obscure the demon huntress’ vision. The figures milling about the entrance of the area seemed oblivious to their hushed voices. Tris replied evenly, “Barrow den. You know that just as well as I do, Ary. I’m keeping an eye out for any sign of the psychomancer. She’s already made it past us once using her powers, you’re my best bet for making sure she doesn’t do it again.”
Ary lowered her hand, a scowl curling her lips. “I’ve built up defenses against these sorts of things, but Tharion taught us how to resist manipulation. It’s not that different to apply it to an outside force instead of within. Don’t tell me that you haven’t managed that?”
The human’s violet eyes looked between the barrow den and the night elf again, giving her a look of exasperation. “Did you really need me here?”
“She has Rephaia.”
That caused Ary to pause. “So, you mean to tell me that you awakened a demon against all the warning signs and now it’s taken Rephaia?”
Tris grimaced, but didn’t move. “Yes. I really don’t need a lecture. Syrona started to act strangely when we got close to the records and the pendant. The inconsistencies and reactions led us to suspect that she might be the demon. The only way to find out was to give her the amulet, but… would it have been better to leave her incomplete but innocent? She wasn’t exactly doing harm as she was.” Tris shifted slightly, adjusting her position to stretch one knee out along the limb.
Ary’s brow furrowed, and she waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t tell me you’re getting soft. You do what you need to get the job done, Tris. If we question every demon to find out if they’re good, then we’d never get anywhere. We’re not good. If you’re going to waste that body, then we can fix that for you.”
Tris looked up with an angry scowl. “I’m not wasting this body, Ary. I’m still hunting. I chose to be the watcher in the night; the silent guard. I was questioning whether that separation meant that she was still a demon. If we’d left her alone, would she have lived out her life as a normal draenei?”
The shadowmancer snorted, “Who cares. A demon is a demon. Do you think anyone cared what parts of us went into each body after we were split? They call us both Araatris. As a demon of the Legion, she doesn’t deserve peace. They didn’t give us any after how many invasions?” The smaller woman gave a light kick to Tris’ horns. “Now let’s get to business. What do you really want? Because keeping you company and listening to you whine was not on my list of things to do tonight.”
Tris pressed her lips together. “I need you to act as a barrier against her mental powers. Shizu and I have Thar’s training, limited as it might be, but Xandalus and Valrynne don’t have any.”
“Fine, but you have to restock the tea at the Site of Lessons after this. I’m tired of doing it.” Ary looked back at the barrow den.
Tris followed suit and it was silent for several minutes before she spoke again. “What are you wearing?”
The human looked down at herself. The top was barely more than a crescent metal bra and ragged midnight blue fabric draped across her shoulders. Her pants were a mixture of holey brown leather with blue strips wound about her legs. It was difficult to tell if they had any real purpose given the haphazard nature of the wrapping. “Clothes. I mean, you’re not that blind yet. You’re close though. Even I can tell. I’ll be sure to give a wonderful eulogy if you die.”
“Yes, and it will say ‘she was an idiot and got herself killed’, I’m sure. I know your style. No seriously. Weren’t you fond of that ragged purple gown?” The demon huntress tilted her head even though she wasn’t looking at the other woman. Ary grinned humorlessly, “Oh? I still like it, but it has its disadvantages in physical combat. I needed something a bit more fitted. I’m surprised that you still wear the kilt that you do, but then again… you just brute force everything, don’t you? Just like this hunt.”
“Shut up, Ary.”
“You started it.”