Wednesday, July 31, 2019

Whispers in the Shadows

The fellow named Jon Chess had fallen asleep and dreamed, as he so often did, of the Void.

Telogrus had been destroyed long ago, leaving only the fragments of that shattering, still seeped in void energies and suspended in space. Jon had visited there as part of a case, a rescue mission to recover a bookseller Ren'dorei that had gifted Jon with several rare scrolls of Arakkoan shadow magic in his quest to learn to harness the Shadows.

Since that day, Jon had dreamed of standing on the rocky surface of a Telogrus shard, meditating on the Shadows. He often heard voices, whisperings, the skittering of eldritch creatures that he could feel pounding against the psychic walls Jon had learned to erect in the Temple of the White Tiger in Pandaria.

After visiting the dark Deepcoil Tunnels and the subterranean Shirakess Depository, hed begun hearing the whispering voices during his waking hours, as well.

"All alone in the depths..." he'd hear the unseen presence whisper. Jon was unsure of what the point of the commentary was; Jon was often alone. Often, Jon preferred being on his own, where any mistake he made would affect only himself.

"Such a heavy burden you carry. Soon you will be free of it"

Jon chuckled.  "Yes," he whispered back into the Shadows. "Poor Jon, a beast of burden... a sad life, and no doubt, a tragic death. Horrible... but at least it has a certain symmetry to it."

"Your crimes are terrible... numberless... glorious..."

"I don't know about numberless... I'm pretty sure that anyone who cared could count that high," Jon would chuckle.

"Your wakening draws near..."

"Anything would be preferable to listening to your blather," Jon mocked the voice.

"Thief. Renegade. Murderer. Servant."

"I see you've read my SI:7 file. Guilty as charged - so what?" Jon challenged. "I've been a thief and a criminal almost my whole life. Murderer? Many times over.  Servant?  We all serve something or someone - I am proud of my service to my Masters, and they are pleased with my service." He listed them in his head - Elling Trias, the spymaster who had molded a street rat into an Agent of Cheese.  Lady Jaina Proudmoore, to whom Trias had given him, who had used him as an agent in first Theramore until its destruction and then again in Kul Tiras.  Princess Tess Greymane, the member of the Unseen who sometimes made use of his talents. Duchess Elaianna Stalsworth, for whom he had worked as an agent when she was the Ambassador from Kul Tiras to Stormwind, and who he had kept faith with thereafter. Hinik and Raysse, the Lord and Lady of the House of Stewards. Jon had, over time, served many masters, and took pride ins serving each with distinction.

"Let go..."

"You first.  Do you think yours is the first voice in my head? The Rook used to tell me worse secrets about myself - and he knew them all, especially those he committed. The shadow priestess who tried to get me to slaughter the Ren'dorei with visions of hatred?  The sayaadi who tried to control me with fantasies of lust and domination? Please... whispers in the Shadows are nothing new to me - I haven't been alone in my head for years, not since the howls of Pyrewood."  Jon laughed, his mirth a booming shockwave in the silence of the Void. "You, whoever and whatever you are, are almost insultingly amateurish."

Jon woke upon the approach of Sina Darkshiv, one of his comrades in the House of Stewards. He sighed.  The whisperer had been correct about one thing - his wakening had drawn near, and it was time to get back to work.

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