Netherbane: Returns, Part VII

“Ya really wanna get that mini fel-reaver done, dontcha?” The goblin’s voice crackled over the unreliable remote communicator. It cut in and out as he spoke. “I means, I ain’t gonna complain abo… keepin’ the Sky Golem, Saaira, but I did jus... repair... fer your use.”

“I know, Phrazzic,” Saaira replied over the communicator. The cockpit of the sky golem was cramped and rather sharp. Rivets, half-screwed bolts, and exposed metal edges were everywhere. It was meant for someone the size of a goblin or a gnome, not a draenei, and Saaira was extremely uncomfortable in it—which was something to be said for someone who was undead. She appreciated Phrazzic’s efforts, but the machine had not been built for someone like her. “But this was originally yours, yes? You put your effort into it, and you deserve to keep it.”

“Like I said, I ain’t gonna complain, but…” Another hiss of static overroad Phrazzic’s voice. She had left him standing atop one of the broken spires of Shattrath City, trying to maintain good reception to the mechanical goblinoid machine that Saaira piloted. Apparently, he was failing. His voice was constantly being interrupted by bursts of crackling noise. “...ull sized fel reav... the area. No one kno… ame from. Be careful... there, right?”

“I will, Phrazzic. Let me do one more sweep of the area and then I will return, yes? You don’t have to worry about this machine anymore today after that.”

“It wasn’t the machine I was worried ab…” Another crackling hiss of static drowned out the goblin’s voice. When it cleared up, all that remained to be heard was a frustrated, “…oger that, toots.”

Saaira circled the sky over Shadowmoon Valley. While the fel-infused storms had died down over the past few years, the sky was still a permanent green and the clouds continuously roiled around the former temple of Karabor. The veil was thin here. Shadowmoon had been the epicenter of the dimensional rift that tore Draenor apart, leaving it to become the fragmented hellscape that was known instead as Outland. 

She tried to peer at the tortured landscape through the small visor-slit cut into the golem’s canopy, but the view was too limited. She could barely see in front of her, let alone maintain any sort of situational awareness outside the contraption. The instruments around her all blazed varying colors and blared varying sounds. Some may have been warnings, but Saaira could not tell. Someone more experienced would have been able to interpret them easily, she thought. Perhaps someone like her sister, Rephaia. As it was, Saaira was lucky to keep the thing airborne.

“You always were the one who loved to fly…” Saaira whispered to herself.

“Whawuzat?” Phrazzic’s voice came across the communication channel. “I didn’t catc.. last bit.”

“Nothing, Phrazzic,” Saaira cleared her throat. “Just musing to myself.”

“Ah, okedokes.” There was a long, static-filled pause. Saaira took another turn around the central volcano that dominated the entire valley. She was looking for something very specific. Phrazzic’s voice crackled again. “Soooo… whatcha musin’ abo...?”  

“I grew up here, Phrazzic. In Shadowmoon. Before…” Saaira gestured with her hand towards the tainted environment outside of her mechanized machine. It did not matter that Phrazzic would be unable to see the motion. Saaira was half lost in thought, anyway.. “...before all this. It was where mother’s house was located. Near Embaari and Teluuna.”

“I don’t knows where eith... of those is,” Phrazzic’s voice held no resentment, but was still a little weary. “But I hopes ya fin... atever yer lookni’ for.... The power’s gonna go flat... this talky-widget soon, though. Not sure I can keep... annel open, alright?”

Saaira frowned, but nodded. Again, another motion that Phrazzic would be unable to see. “Right. Very well. You will see me when I return, yes? Usual place.”

“Gotcha, toot—” Static cut the goblin off before the channel closed and Saaira was enveloped in silence.

The rattle and clang of a sky golem in flight ensured that Saaira was not actually enveloped in silence, but it felt that way when Phrazzic’s voice vanished. She had become used to the little goblin’s company. The guy had a habit of just bringing noise with him, but it was a comforting noise: the banging of tools, the clanking of machines, the grumble of soot-covered engines, and the screech of tearing metal were all harsh sounds, but they had become familiar over the past few months. They were noises that made you realize that you were not dead. They also reminded Saaira of Rephaia. 

The now-paladin had always been the more hands-on of the twins. She enjoyed making things, and had been doing so since the two were very young. Rephaia always knew her way around a machine shop, regardless of whether it was draenei or some other. Growing up, Saaira had gotten used to the various noises of creation that cranked out of Rephaia’s little workroom. As they aged, the room was upgraded to a simple hut that sat outside their mother’s home—her first true workshop. Saaira had helped her put it together, even though she was not as skilled a builder as her twin.

While Phrazzic’s sounds were not as melodious as with draenei crafting—they, in fact, sounded nothing like draenei crafting—Saaira found the noise of someone making something to be pleasant. It made her realize that she was not alone.

Saaira shook the memories from her mind and returned her focus to keeping the sky golem actually in the sky. She knew roughly where she was now, despite the Shadowmoon Valley of today looking nothing like the Shadowmoon Valley decades ago. She peered again through the thin visor-slit, and a familiar formation on the ground caught her attention. Was that it? It looked like the right shape, but she would know better once she landed. 

Saaira was not easily able to recognize her old home from the sky as her sister would have been, so she decided to go in for a closer look. She steered the rattling mech towards the formation and brought it in for a landing, touching down and scattering aside decades worth of detritus away from her machine’s articulated feet.

As the canopy covering rolled back, revealing the full breadth of Shadowmoon’s wasteland, Saaira noticed that she had landed near a small pile of recognizable rubble—rotted wood and a few darkened crystal archway ornaments.

* * *

“Rephaia!” Saaira shouted as she ran out the front archway of her family’s house. She made her way to the front of the small wooden shack that sat a few paces around the rear. The shack itself still resembled the other draenei structures nearby, including their home, but it was much smaller and far less ornate. A few crystalline ornaments capped wood-carved arches on the roof—a nod to the embellishments of the larger structures—but, overall the shack was rather simple. “Rephaia! Mama says it’s time to eat!”

A loud, heavy thud vibrated through the ground and up Saaira’s hooves, and the young girl’s eyes widened in shock.

“Rephaia?” She banged on the wooden door. “Are you okay? Rephaia?”

“I’m… fine, Saaira,” came a cough from inside the small structure. “Just a moment, yes?”

The door creaked open… and then immediately fell off its hinges and flopped on the ground. Saaira jumped back to avoid having the door fall on her, and both she and her sister stared, wide-eyed, at the now-splintered slabs of wood laying on the dirt path.

“Uhm,” Saaira started, looking from the door to her twin. “Are you sure you’re okay? Better than the door, at least?”

Rephaia sighed and placed her hand over one of her horns—making sure it was still there, perhaps—but nodded her assent. “Better than the door, yes.” She was covered in an iridescent pink dust from head to hoof. Even her goggles were shining with the new color.

“What happened?”

“Crystal dust reacts badly to spore paste from the Zangar sea, I think.” The other girl removed her goggles and rested them atop her forehead. Clean spots around her eyes revealed their luminescent azure glow and the bluish tone of her skin.

Saaira frowned. “Everything reacts badly to the spore paste from the Zangar sea, Rephaia. You’re the one who taught me that.”

“Yes, well…” Rephaia stepped out of the shack, the insides of which were in ruins, and dusted herself off. “...it’s experiments like these that allow me to find things out so I may teach you, yes?”

Saaira raised an eyebrow, casting a dubious expression at her sister. “Anyway, mama’s almost done with dinner. She sent me out to tell you to get cleaned up and ready. I’ll… I’ll let her know you may need a few extra moments.”

“Aye aye, captain,” Rephaia snapped to mock attention, saluting her twin with exaggerated motion. The two of them often played at being military. “I’ll go wash up over in the stream and worry about salvaging whatever’s left of my experiment after food, I think.”

Saaira nodded and then ran back towards the house. Rephaia’s workshop was not far from it, but the path wound around the sides of the main building and through a series of blossoming gardens. They were especially pretty in this weather, and Saaira sometimes plucked a flower from the ground and tucked it against one of her horns. She thought it made her look pretty, so she found a particularly vibrant green one and put it in her hair. She started humming a happy tune she had heard from one of the nearby farmers.

As she rounded to the front of the house again, the arched doorway, strangely, was open. She was sure she had closed it, but sometimes it was easy to assume such things when you had done them countless times before. She shrugged to herself and closed it behind her.

“Mama! Rephaia’s gonna be a little late. She exploded her shop agai—” Saaira cut herself off as she rounded the corner and found her mother standing with a complete stranger. It was another draenei, not one of those rough-looking orcs, but it did not look like anyone she knew from Embaari village. His robes may have been those of someone from Teluuna Observatory, however. They seemed fancy enough.

“Saaira,” Shazadi smiled at her daughter as she rounded the corner. “Thank you for letting me know. Dinner will be a few extra minutes, too, so she shouldn’t worry.”

“Okay…” Saaira nodded and then turned her eyes to the larger male. “Who’s this?”

“An old friend, Saaira,” Shazadi replied, turning a sharp glare at the man. He returned it with a flat stare. “Someone I used to know long before you were born.”

The man, who was larger than other draenei males Saaira had known, had a greyish-purple skin and four small horns that spread upwards in an almost majestic, backward-swept crown. His hair was long and draped over his shoulders. His robes were made of many layers of colored cloth, each lined with gold or silver piping. They looked expensive. He turned to look at Saaira and smiled.“Saaira, is it?” He asked. “One of Shazadi’s twin daughters. It is good to meet you, finally.”

Saaira frowned. “How do you know us?”

The man looked over to Shazadi, his smile holding little warmth. It spoke of ancient knowledge—that kind of weaponized knowledge that those with power used to control those without. “I know many things about you and your family, Saaira. As your mother said, we have known each other for a very long time. She used to send regular messages to me, but has, in recent years, allowed herself to stray from that habit.

“I had not forgotten about you, Malfias,” Shazadi replied. Her voice was low, and had she not been poised and standing with near-perfect posture, Saaira would have expected to hear her mother growl. “I have simply been busy.”

“Ah, busy, yes.” Malfias’s smile widened. “Raising two children can be a handful, I’m sure. What’s this I hear about Rephaia causing some sort of explosion?”

Saaira stepped past Malfias and stood next to her mother. She crossed her arms across her chest and kept her eyes locked on the stranger. “Her shop was damaged. Big explosion. Probably heard by the guards. I’m sure they’ll be by soon to check on us because of it.”

Shazadi frowned at the back of Saaira’s head, but her daughter’s attention was focused entirely on the man. Instead, she returned her gaze to Malfias as well. “While it has been… informative to see you again… I am sure that you are also busy, hmm? I would not wish to intrude upon your schedule by inviting you to dinner. So I will not.”

Malfias raised his own eyebrow, but the smile never left his face. “I had no intention of staying past my welcome, Shazadi. I merely wished to ensure that you had not forgotten your obligations. There have been rumors of dissent among the leadership. Some say Daeloth intends to stake his claim as general.”

“I care not for what Daeloth intends,” Shazadi’s frown deepened. “But you can rest easy, Malfias. My work will be done before he makes his move.”

Malfias tilted his head. “You have prepared the proper ceremonies, then? Identified the correct paths? The Shadowlands are open to you, now? The complexity of what you planned astounds even myself, you realize. You cannot blame me for doubting—”

“As I said...” Shazadi’s voice was hard as she cut in. “...my work will be done. I do not appreciate having to repeat myself.”

“Then I am happy to hear that, Shazadi.” The other man nodded his head—it was almost a half bow—before straightening up and turning his empty smile to Saaira. He reached out and pulled the emerald-colored flower from her hair and brought it to his nose. He looked over the blossom and back to Shazadi. “Such a unique specimen. Your skill with these flowers has not waned in the slightest. I am glad you have continued to cultivate them.”

“They are important to me,” Shazadi replied. She reached out and put both of her hands on Saaira’s shoulders in a protective gesture. “And I do what I can to ensure they survive.”

“That you do,” Malfias chuckled. “That you do, indeed.” He handed the flower back to Saaira, who took it with a frown. “I’ll take my leave now. I trust you will resume contact at your regular interval.” It was not a question.

Saaira looked up at her mother as the strange man stepped out of their house, leaving the two of them alone. He had left the door open. “I don’t like him, mama,” she said.

“You are not meant to, Saaira,” Shazadi replied, pulling her daughter into a rear embrace. “But there are others far worse.”

* * *

Saaira looked over the pile of rubble that used to be her mother’s house. It had been many years, almost a standard mortal lifetime, since she and Rephaia had lived here in anything resembling peace. Their mother had abandoned it, too, shortly after the twins ran away.

It had been a few more years past that meeting with Malfias that their mother had finally revealed her allegiance to the Burning Legion—the infinite army of demons that continually hunted the draenei while laying waste to the rest of the cosmos—to the two of them. After Malfias’s visit, Shazadi had frequently left her daughters on their own, leaving to travel to ‘far-away villages’. The twins had no reason to question her back then, so they thought nothing of it. Many of the villagers traveled for varying reasons: trade, exploration, wanderlust.

When Shazadi finally did reveal the truth—that she had been traveling off-world to help the Legion in their eternal Burning Crusade, both Rephaia and Saaira were shocked. When she had offered them a place at her side, claiming that she always wanted her daughters with her, the two of them ran away.

That had been the day everything changed. With their mother no longer a part of their lives, the two only had each other upon which they could rely. They had made their way from village to village, trying to get as far from Embaari as possible. It had been a difficult trip, but they eventually found their way to Shattrath City.

Saaira kicked a clump of old masonry in idle recollection. It broke apart against her hoof and scattered fine dust into the air, but it was not enough to reach her face. She did not enjoy these memories, but they had become too frequent to ignore, so she had decided to allow herself to get lost in them this time. Especially this time, at the site of their old home.

It was the last place she had been together, in peace, with her entire family.

The ground rumbled as she walked around the pile of what used to be a home, and Saaira steadied herself on a piece of a broken wall. Looking just past the ruin, Saaira found that the gardens still existed. It was not a surprise to her, however, as she had learned long ago that her mother had been cultivating fel blossoms. The vibrant green flowers Saaira had enjoyed so much had been this specific type of plant. Before Outland, her mother had found it a struggle to maintain them. However, since the Legion’s invasion and conquest of the now-shattered world, the fel-infused blossoms had flourished. The small handful of bushes had become overgrown, running their tendrils under and through the foundation of the home structure. Large, brightly colored flowers were in bloom, soaking up the lingering demonic corruption that saturated Shadowmoon Valley. Saaira chose the largest of the ones within reach, and she put it in her hair. Now, as back then, she still loved the look of them.

A low rumble and the tortured sounds of twisting metal from the other side of a nearby ridge caught Saaira’s attention. She jumped at the unexpected interruption, nearly stumbling over some of the debris at her hooves, but she caught herself on the remains of the house’s former outer wall.

The sounds faded quickly, as if they were nothing more than the dying cries of a wounded animal. Steadying herself, Saaira decided to investigate. It took a few minutes, but as she crested the low hill on the opposite side of her home’s ruins, Saaira discovered the source of the noise.

It was a fallen fel reaver. A full-sized one. Laying prone against the side of another cluster of  sundered mountains across the valley, the once deadly machine did not appear to be a threat. It, in fact, appeared to be dying. Or perhaps it was already dead.

Taking a deep breath, a breath that was entirely unnecessary, Saaira turned back to her sky golem. She needed to go and take a closer look.

* * *

“Waitwaitwait…” Phrazzic shook his head and waved his hands as Saaira tried to explain herself. “You actually found the fel reaver I warned yas about? Like, intact?”

“More or less,” Saaira nodded. “It may have been full sized, but it was not fully functional.”

“Wherewazit?”

“To the north. It had fallen near the northern ridge of mountains. I took a really close look at it.”

“You took a look?” Phrazzic raised an eyebrow. “Toots, you amaze me more everyday. I woulda left that place lickety-split! Those things are dangerous in any state they’re in!”

“Why would you lick spit?” Saaira frowned.

“Eh?” Phrazzic tilted his head like a confused puppy. “Wha—? Oh! No no. It’s a saying, ya know? ‘Lickety-split’. Meanin’ ‘really fast’.”

“Then why would you not just say ‘really fast’?”

“Because it’s less interestin’ that way, that’s s’why.” Phrazzic shrugged. “‘Sides, the nature of my phrase-ology ain’t in question here. It’s yer deathwish!”

“But I am already dead, Phrazzic.” Saaira put her hands on her hips. The two of them were standing on the outskirts of Shattrath city, just beyond the remains of its outermost walls. There was a clearing here suitable for launching and landing the sky golem without risk of crashing into other Lower City inhabitants. Crashing was usually bad for business. “I cannot be dead a second time, nor would I wish to be.”

“Yeah? You ever put that to the test?” Phrazzic shook his remote communicator at Saaira as he admonished her. The wire antenna wobbled and waggled like a mechanical finger.

“Well,” Saaira frowned. “...no. Not exactly.”

“See? Then yous listen to ol’ Phrazzic, right? Don’t be going and gettin’ yerself too close to big dangerous things like fel reavers. At least the full-sized ones.”

Saaira turned her wispy blue gaze upon the little goblin with a flat stare. She crossed her arms across her armored torso.

“Aww, not that look!” Phrazzic sighed and slumped. “Okay okay, fine, Saaira. You do what ya wants to do. Go ahead and ignore me, right? Like I know yer gonna do anyways.”

Saaira’s stare immediately softened as she giggled. “You are too easy, Phrazzic. I did not even have to say anything that time.”

“Yeah… well…” Phrazzic shuffled his feet and turned away, looking at the sky golem. “I guess I’ll have ta make some modifications, huh? Get this thing prepped for haulin’. You said that most of the fel reaver was still there?”

“Most, yes. More than enough to finish the small one we are building, certainly.” Saaira nodded.

“Alright, alright,” Phrazzic walked himself over to the goblinoid mech and patted its side. “I’ll get to workin’. Need to equip her to carry reaver bits back to the shop.”

“...the golem is a ‘she’?” Saaira tilted her head. “I did not know that was possible.”

“Just a figure of speech, lady,” Phrazzic waved his hand at the draenei dismissively. “She really is just a hunk of metal. Though, I’m sure she’ll listen to me more than someones I know…”

Saaira replied. “That is a certainty, yes?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Phrazzic shot a look of exasperation at the draenei. “Don’t I know it.”

Saaira gave Phrazzic a nod as she turned to walk back to the city proper. “I will return to my hut and clear the area around the smaller reaver. I did not expect that we could have it ready so soon.”

For the first time since she had been called back from death, Saaira felt a spark of joy flare up within her. It was both familiar and alien at the same time. Regardless, it was a pleasant sensation.

She smiled.