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tamingthemuseTitle: Memories
Fandom; Pairings: World of Warcraft; None (OCs)
Prompt: #254 - From whence we came.
Warnings: None.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,242
Summary: Savitry knows she had a life before becoming a death knight, she's just not sure she wants to know what it was.
Notes: It's possible I've taken some liberties with the lore, though I don't believe any of it is outrageous or incongruent with WoW's setting. Savitry is just one of my alts and not anyone I currently have plans to role-play with, well except maybe with a friend as we quest together. Then again, I'll never say never to a new character potential. Anyway, this idea popped into my head days ago and wouldn't leave.
The blue sapphire spun slowly on its grime coated chain, the faceted surface sparkling like a star in the torchlight.
“What is it?”
“A necklace.”
“I can see that, but why are you showing it to me?”
“It’s yours.”
Savitry cocked her head and regarded the forsaken holding the jewelry in his outstretched hand with suspicion. “I don’t own any necklaces.”
The forsaken let out a weary sigh which made something in his chest rattle unnaturally. Since Arthas’s defeat one group of forsaken within Ebon Hold had taken it upon themselves to return the personal property of Scourge victims, but with so many death knights and forsaken unable to recall their lives amongst the living it was proving to be a frustrating task. “It was found on your person when you came to Ebon Hold,” he explained patiently as the leather keeping his jaw attached frayed a little more at one corner of his mouth. “Just take it, please.”
Finding no reason to argue, Savitry accepted the necklace. She cupped the sapphire in the palm of her hand and studied it closely. Somewhere tucked deep inside her mind she felt the faintest flicker of recognition and then it was gone. Perhaps the forsaken was correct and it had been hers once upon a time, though she doubted she’d ever remember when that was or who might have given it to her.
Not knowing what else to do, she opened the clasp and put the necklace on her neck. After a moment to adjust the chain, the jewel settled above her breasts. The weight of it felt familiar and, somehow, right to her, but again it was a fleeting sensation. It was just a necklace, one she made a mental note to take to a jewel crafter to have cleaned later. Nothing was terribly pretty or sanitary after being handled by several sets of rotting and decaying hands.
The forsaken nodded with approval and held out a clipboard with a quill dipped in fresh ink. “Just sign here to acknowledge receipt of your property. If you can’t recall your name, make one up or just put an X.” The words were rote, rehearsed many times throughout the day. “It’s a record keeping idea we borrowed from the goblins. This way if you do regain your memory you can’t claim we didn’t return your things,” he added unnecessarily.
Savitry signed her name, the letters flowing easily onto the parchment. When she was done, she reached for the sapphire, tugging at it gently. Her name and, now, her necklace were the only remains of her life before Arthas.
Neither of the two, she mused, was of much use to her.
***
Savitry stared at the plate before her. A large hell boar steak freshly butchered and seared over an open flame sat at the center flanked on either side by a large slice of spice bread and a mushy purple vegetable she was told only grew deep within the Zangar Marsh. It didn’t matter how fresh or exotic the meal was; it all became ash the moment it touched her tongue. She wondered why she bothered. It wasn’t as though food and drink were necessities for her.
“We should try to remember who we were,” the tauren called Snowscream said over his mug of ale. The two of them had journeyed to Outland together after Arthas’s defeat, though neither could say why. There’d been no discussion or any words exchanged at all, just a mutual trust one would always guard the other’s back, and that was how it would always be.
“Why should we? What purpose would those memories serve?” The silverware rattled against the plate as she pushed it across the table. “I cannot even recall what it is to hunger.”
“And maybe that is precisely why we should remember.” He placed his forearms on the table and leaned forward, his frame still towering over Savitry’s comparatively small blood elf body. “We’ll likely never know hunger or thirst or even pain again, but we could know our families. We could remember what it was to be loved and cared for.”
“That’s assuming our families are alive and that they would welcome traitorous death knights with open arms.” She gestured at the orc guards watching them from the doorway. “Remember the reception we received in Orgrimmar? Even if our families—if they exist—wanted us, the rest of our home cities may not.”
Snowscream considered her for a moment and then nodded his head. “It’s true we might be chased away,” he conceded, “but we won’t know for certain unless we try.”
“What are you suggesting?”
“We discover from whence we came.”
Savitry snorted and rolled her eyes. “We came from war, reborn in death as the Lich King’s weapons. There is no great mystery for us to solve.”
The tauren frowned and then reached out for the sapphire necklace that still adorned Savitry’s neck. “You never would have purchased such an extravagant gift for yourself.”
“You don’t know that,” she snapped, but even as she said it she knew he was right.
“Don’t you want to know who gave this to you? They must have cared for you, possibly even loved you.” He removed his hand as Savitry wrapped her fingers around it in a protective grip. “We’re free now, sister. We can rediscover who we were, and maybe we can find our new place in this world.”
After several long silent seconds, Savitry pursed her lips together and exhaled slowly through her nose. “All right, brother, where do you suggest we look first?”
***
The letter came from Silvermoon, or so the seal seemed to indicate. It was waiting for her in Thrallmar when she returned from a successful scouting expedition monitoring Legion activities. She sat with it in her hands for a long time, tracing a fingertip over the seal again and again before finally opening it to reveal its contents.
The name sparked no memory, but the letter awakened something within her that night. When she slept she dreamed for the first time in ages. She dreamed of a heart beating within her chest, of passion and lust, of life in all its pain-filled glory. And for the first time since her death, she yearned to know who she had been.
Snowscream would be pleased when she told him.
Fandom; Pairings: World of Warcraft; None (OCs)
Prompt: #254 - From whence we came.
Warnings: None.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,242
Summary: Savitry knows she had a life before becoming a death knight, she's just not sure she wants to know what it was.
Notes: It's possible I've taken some liberties with the lore, though I don't believe any of it is outrageous or incongruent with WoW's setting. Savitry is just one of my alts and not anyone I currently have plans to role-play with, well except maybe with a friend as we quest together. Then again, I'll never say never to a new character potential. Anyway, this idea popped into my head days ago and wouldn't leave.
The blue sapphire spun slowly on its grime coated chain, the faceted surface sparkling like a star in the torchlight.
“What is it?”
“A necklace.”
“I can see that, but why are you showing it to me?”
“It’s yours.”
Savitry cocked her head and regarded the forsaken holding the jewelry in his outstretched hand with suspicion. “I don’t own any necklaces.”
The forsaken let out a weary sigh which made something in his chest rattle unnaturally. Since Arthas’s defeat one group of forsaken within Ebon Hold had taken it upon themselves to return the personal property of Scourge victims, but with so many death knights and forsaken unable to recall their lives amongst the living it was proving to be a frustrating task. “It was found on your person when you came to Ebon Hold,” he explained patiently as the leather keeping his jaw attached frayed a little more at one corner of his mouth. “Just take it, please.”
Finding no reason to argue, Savitry accepted the necklace. She cupped the sapphire in the palm of her hand and studied it closely. Somewhere tucked deep inside her mind she felt the faintest flicker of recognition and then it was gone. Perhaps the forsaken was correct and it had been hers once upon a time, though she doubted she’d ever remember when that was or who might have given it to her.
Not knowing what else to do, she opened the clasp and put the necklace on her neck. After a moment to adjust the chain, the jewel settled above her breasts. The weight of it felt familiar and, somehow, right to her, but again it was a fleeting sensation. It was just a necklace, one she made a mental note to take to a jewel crafter to have cleaned later. Nothing was terribly pretty or sanitary after being handled by several sets of rotting and decaying hands.
The forsaken nodded with approval and held out a clipboard with a quill dipped in fresh ink. “Just sign here to acknowledge receipt of your property. If you can’t recall your name, make one up or just put an X.” The words were rote, rehearsed many times throughout the day. “It’s a record keeping idea we borrowed from the goblins. This way if you do regain your memory you can’t claim we didn’t return your things,” he added unnecessarily.
Savitry signed her name, the letters flowing easily onto the parchment. When she was done, she reached for the sapphire, tugging at it gently. Her name and, now, her necklace were the only remains of her life before Arthas.
Neither of the two, she mused, was of much use to her.
***
Savitry stared at the plate before her. A large hell boar steak freshly butchered and seared over an open flame sat at the center flanked on either side by a large slice of spice bread and a mushy purple vegetable she was told only grew deep within the Zangar Marsh. It didn’t matter how fresh or exotic the meal was; it all became ash the moment it touched her tongue. She wondered why she bothered. It wasn’t as though food and drink were necessities for her.
“We should try to remember who we were,” the tauren called Snowscream said over his mug of ale. The two of them had journeyed to Outland together after Arthas’s defeat, though neither could say why. There’d been no discussion or any words exchanged at all, just a mutual trust one would always guard the other’s back, and that was how it would always be.
“Why should we? What purpose would those memories serve?” The silverware rattled against the plate as she pushed it across the table. “I cannot even recall what it is to hunger.”
“And maybe that is precisely why we should remember.” He placed his forearms on the table and leaned forward, his frame still towering over Savitry’s comparatively small blood elf body. “We’ll likely never know hunger or thirst or even pain again, but we could know our families. We could remember what it was to be loved and cared for.”
“That’s assuming our families are alive and that they would welcome traitorous death knights with open arms.” She gestured at the orc guards watching them from the doorway. “Remember the reception we received in Orgrimmar? Even if our families—if they exist—wanted us, the rest of our home cities may not.”
Snowscream considered her for a moment and then nodded his head. “It’s true we might be chased away,” he conceded, “but we won’t know for certain unless we try.”
“What are you suggesting?”
“We discover from whence we came.”
Savitry snorted and rolled her eyes. “We came from war, reborn in death as the Lich King’s weapons. There is no great mystery for us to solve.”
The tauren frowned and then reached out for the sapphire necklace that still adorned Savitry’s neck. “You never would have purchased such an extravagant gift for yourself.”
“You don’t know that,” she snapped, but even as she said it she knew he was right.
“Don’t you want to know who gave this to you? They must have cared for you, possibly even loved you.” He removed his hand as Savitry wrapped her fingers around it in a protective grip. “We’re free now, sister. We can rediscover who we were, and maybe we can find our new place in this world.”
After several long silent seconds, Savitry pursed her lips together and exhaled slowly through her nose. “All right, brother, where do you suggest we look first?”
***
The letter came from Silvermoon, or so the seal seemed to indicate. It was waiting for her in Thrallmar when she returned from a successful scouting expedition monitoring Legion activities. She sat with it in her hands for a long time, tracing a fingertip over the seal again and again before finally opening it to reveal its contents.
Savitry Duskmoon,
Your letter was passed on to me by a fellow Farstrider who recognized your description and knew I would be the best person to answer your questions. I’ve only dreamed I might ever get the chance to speak with you again, but now that I put quill to paper I find the words elude me.
You didn’t mention how much of your life you remember. Judging from the scant details provided, I fear you know little more than your name. There is, of course, no way to fit your entire life onto one page, and I admit I worry too much might startle you or make things more difficult than they should be. I think it best to simply extend an invitation to visit Silvermoon at your earliest convenience so that you might become reacquainted with your old life as a Farstrider at a pace that is comfortable for you.
I sincerely hope you will accept my invitation, Savitry.I have missed you dearly.There are many here who would like to see you again.Your husband
Yours,
Andor Duskmoon
The name sparked no memory, but the letter awakened something within her that night. When she slept she dreamed for the first time in ages. She dreamed of a heart beating within her chest, of passion and lust, of life in all its pain-filled glory. And for the first time since her death, she yearned to know who she had been.
Snowscream would be pleased when she told him.
