The Other had certainly made himself known the previous night for the Lunar Festival. He amused her and terrified her all at once. Araatris Valryss knew that she was much weaker than the others. The death knight who had just recently been bound had been bold and endured much better than she had. She was human and she was young. Had she thoughtless thought she could tread such a path? A night elven path? A kaldorei path?

She was changing. Soon she was sure that she would no longer recognize herself. Yet, the demon cajoled her in a strange way. His barking tone, “What did you expect, brat? We’re attached. Of course you’re going to change. It’s the way you humans adapt.”

It was true. If she truly looked at it, there were points in her life that great changes had occurred. Losing her parents. Meeting Tharion. And now… a demon. Yet, she knew that if she truly thought she was becoming dangerous what she would have to do. She would not be hunted. She would go quietly and with honor.

Araatris walked about the Site of Lessons. It was quiet in the morning light. Her fingers brushed against the books on the shelves, the familiar furniture. It had truly become a home to her. Finally, she stopped circling at the privacy screen and rummaged through her backpack. It took her a few moments, but she finally pulled it out.

She had not told Tharion about this keepsake, but hadn’t thought it truly mattered. However, she knew now that she was not the same person she had been upon entering this place. A child’s purple shirt was grasped in her fingers. She couldn’t see the color now, but she’d remembered buying this shirt with her mother. They’d been so exasperated with her fondness for the purple garment. She remembered sitting with her mother as she sewn on the patch on the upper left front of the shirt. It was the symbol of their family.

An orange and black tiger wound about a shield emblazoned with red and yellow sections, its head peeking out from the left and the tail from the right. Her fingers gently traced over the design. “A goodbye too long waiting. I’m sorry, mama… papa.” The Other was quiet. At times, he seemed to almost rest himself or perhaps he was lost in his own thoughts.

It mattered not. She eased a dagger from her side. It was time. Now, while the demon was quiet. Araatris gripped the dagger firmly. Today, she would bury the Valryss. She firmly thrust the dagger in with a grunt.

“Brat! What are you-” The voice cut off as suddenly as it’d begun.

She wanted no distractions. Araatris drug the knife with care, making a careful cut. Gritting her teeth, she wanted to look away, but she knew she couldn’t. She needed to finish the task she’d started. It would be more painful to do otherwise. Imaginary tears stung at her eyes, and she, now more than ever, wanted a comforting hug. But no was around to ease this pain.

It was almost done. She focused entirely on the task at hand. A few moments later, she pulled the knife away and viewed her handiwork. It would do. Araatris tossed the purple shirt onto the fire. In her hand, she held the removed family emblem. She slid the dagger into its sheath and stood.

Araatris had bought a shovel just for this task and she gathered it on the way out. She travelled to a sunny tree quite a ways from the Site. Far from the demons. Looking up, she smiled. “This looked like a spot that you would like to rest. It made me think of you and I came here often when Tharion wasn’t around.” She began digging. “I know you wouldn’t approve of what I’ve done and the risks I’ve taken, but… he’s really tried to prepare me for them.”

She continued digging; wanting to make sure it was deep enough that a stray animal wouldn’t accidently dig it up. “And I know that I haven’t exactly chosen a Valryss path, but I’m going to make you proud of me.” Wiping at some sweat on her forehead, she paused and looked at the tree. “But… I’ll never be the Valryss you wanted. I can’t. Maybe I never could, but rather than sully your name… I’m going to take on a new one some day. For now, I’ll just be Araatris.”

The patch was gently set into the bottom of the several feet deep hole. It was simple work covering it back up and packing the dirt down. Araatris’ fingers caressed the trunk of the tree. “Goodbye Mama. Goodbye Papa. I’ll always be your daughter, not matter the name I carry.” She glanced down at the two flowers she’d quickly transplanted there. Two beautiful purple flowers. She’d been here often enough, to know those flowers were indeed purple, even if she couldn’t see it now.

With a lightened heart, Araatris made her way slowly back to the Site of Lessons. Inside, she could feel the demon mumble a certain amount of approval. Perhaps, he’d had other thoughts about how this day would end. Perhaps, and just perhaps, those thoughts had passed through her mind, but they were fleeting and did not stay.

The young redhead bounded through the woods near the Site of Lessons. Too much was happening, and it was much more than she’d expected. She’d been a fool. Slipping into a tree hollow, Araatris sat in the small space and drew her knees up. Right now, she didn’t want to be found. Gently, she laid her forehead against her knees and wrapped her arms about her legs.

“You are human.

You are young.

Is not everything annoying?”

The words had struck more home than she had time to realize when he said that. Tharion was right. But it wasn’t fair, just because he was a night elf and older shouldn’t mean that it was easier for him. Her hands clenched until the knuckles were white. It hurt… reality hurt. Her shoulders shook, but she knew tears would be denied to her. Araatris had made her choice and the pressure of the blindfold and burning in her eyes was a constant reminder.

“I hate you…,” Apparently, she wasn’t denied a stuffy nose as she sniffled.

“No…” The demonic presence in her mind shifted slipped into her thoughts.

Araatris’ head snapped up. In her horrid embarrassment and melancholy, she’d forgotten about him. She berated herself, but didn’t directly respond to the demon.

“You don’t hate him.” The voice sounded disinterested.

“Yes, I do. It’s his fault!” There was a scurry of creatures as she shouted out to the forest.

“I know you. You don’t hate him.” If a voice could shrug, then that’s what the presence did.

Araatris frowned. It was messing with her again. “What? Because he’s -pretty-?” She tried to glare inside her mind.

“Perhaps, but mostly because you know he never made you do this. If it’s anyone’s fault… it’s yours.” The voice was horridly blunt.

“It’s… It’s… not my fault.” Her shoulders began to shake again.

“Do you want to die?” The voice was sharp, and very intense.

Araatris found a similarity in Tharion’s question when she said that it was easier to not speak with the demon manipulating her thoughts. He’d asked, “Will you be mute?” She wasn’t ready to give up, but it hurt. She sniffled again. “N-no.”

Malorin was silent for several moments. “You aren’t sure.” It was not a question.

The thought made Araatris’ heart skip. Was she really unsure about living? The thought terrified her. She trembled. “I’m… I’m sure.”

“Then why do you hide?” Malorin’s voice had relaxed into a mild disinterest again.

“I’m not…” Araatris paused. “I don’t know…” She glowered. “Why are you being nice?”

“I’m not. I’m simply protecting myself.” He growled, “Without you I no longer exist.”

Ah. So there had been an ulterior motive. “So, you’re lying?”

Malorin huffed, “What good would that do, brat? Then, for all I know you’d just get depressed and commit suicide.”

“So, you don’t know me as well as you think you do.” Araatris grinned slightly through the sniffles.

Malorin grumbled, “I know you as well as you know yourself, which isn’t very good. In your current state, you’re worthless. If you don’t know yourself, then you will never be able to master me. Not that I think you’re capable anyway.”

Araatris stared out of the tree hollow. “Maybe you’re right… maybe you’re wrong. If you have access to me, then I should have access to you. Argh! But he said that there was no you and me… this hurts my head.” She shifted and pressed her fingers into her forehead.

He shrugged, “Not my problem. Anyway, how long are you going to sit here and cry, brat? You’re starting to annoy me.”

She twitched, “Good. Now you know how I feel.”

“And stop talking out loud. You echo enough in this empty place without it.” Malorin grinned amused.

“Shut up!” Araatris fumed.

A deep laughter echoed throughout her mind, “That’s it, brat. Fight!”

Araatris paused and slipped out into the rain from the crevice. “You know what, Malorin… I think I will.” Taking off across the damp grass, Araatris’ feet lead her to the satyr village. Malorin’s malicious laughter echoed through her mind in response.

Araatris stared at the crystal. Even without a blindfold, the crystal seemed to hold a light of its own. Tiny shocks danced across her fingertips. She could feel what it held. Even sense some its emotion. She sneered at it, a hateful grimace for those who had helped destroy her life.

Yet, killing it hadn’t brought her joy. Just a simple release. Araatris held it up into the moonlight and felt an odd feeling she couldn’t explain run through her. It was as if for just a moment, she had been seeing through someone else’s eyes. She yanked the gemstone back down. She honestly had better things to be doing than staring at it.

She could be working about the Site or training, but instead she’d felt the need to be alone. A desperate need to meditate about her path and this gem. A deep shaky breath was taken as Araatris shifted her location.

It was a small moonbeam that reached the forest floor, but would serve her purposes. She sat herself cross-legged and placed the precious stone in her palm. It hummed and vibrated in her hand. It had begun doing this soon after she took possession of it. It was unclear whether it was normal and she’d not had a chance to ask. Araatris wasn’t sure if what she was doing was even a good idea. The crystal certainly didn’t feel pleasant.

Araatris fought the tremble in her arms as she raised it into the moonbeam. A shock ran through her body and froze it as the crystal began screaming. She felt her own mouth echoing the words that she couldn’t understand. Terrified, she was unable to react as she seemed to synchronize with the gemstone.

“You are the one that killed me.” It snarled and seemed to snap within its prison.

“You are mine now.” Araatris tried to sound confident, but her voice cracked in this guttural language.

“A child. Is this what finally did killed me?”

She could hear the sneer in its voice. “I claim you. You will answer to me.”

“Why?”

She sensed it wanted to find out more about her and that seemed dangerous. “You are trapped. You have no choice but to submit.”

It smiled; a gruesome thing that forced itself into her mind. “There is always a choice. You know that. I can sense it. We are alike, you and I.”

“No.” She shook violently.

“I will use you.”

The world shimmered and shook and Araatris found herself lying bereft of dignity. She sprawled on the ground ungainly and a clawed hand grasped her chin. It yanked her head up so that she looked into the eyes of her adversary. The satyr was just as he had been in life and still she found the traces of his previous life fascinating. It spoke plainly with its accompanying grin. “You are helpless, child.”

Her heart pounded, but she forced herself to stare into his eyes. They were mesmerizing, but she focused on the last time she’d seen such eyes up close. She’d thrown herself at that demon and had been blindly trying to kill it. She knew much more now. Her lips curled menacingly.

Without concern for herself, she grasped the demon’s wrist firmly. He seemed amused until Araatris used that as leverage to swing a leg up into his chin. He reeled slightly from the impact, but wasn’t disoriented. A thin scratch marred her cheek. The satyr grinned at the trickle of blood and licked his lips. “So, you want to play?”

Araatris crouched ready for combat, even knowing that there was a chance she might lose without her weapons. She was ready tear him apart with her bare hands if that was what it took. Without warning, the vile creature blurred and disappeared from her sight. It was without warning that that a hoof came crashing into her backside.

She flattened, but rolled aside before he could recover for another blow. Leaping to her feet, Araatris took the offensive, but her blows bounced off his skin until her knuckles and shins were raw. He was really playing with her.

It was easy enough to back off. He was too amused by her attempts and enjoying drawing the fight out. She watched him. This was a dreamscape. Tharion had told her as much about these. And this was as much her dreamscape as his, but… if she gave in. It would be no game, she wouldn’t get out. She hadn’t intended to take it this far, but now that it was the case she had no choice.

The straight forward attacks didn’t work. She needed to find a weak spot. Araatris leapt forward and feinted, a mild look of surprise crossed the satyr’s face as she slipped behind him and punched where his spine was. The hit didn’t connect as he twisted away. His snarl trembled through her body and she stayed firm.

It’d been so simple the entire time. He’d just been protecting his back. It was a pity that she hadn’t connected as now he was on to her plan. He knew she would keep trying for it. Her body tensed and waited for him to attack.

After a moment, the great hoofed creature simply straightened and smiled. “Do you really think it’s going to be that easy?

Araatris smiled. “Not at all, Red. I expect you to fight tooth and claw.”

He walked forward and Araatris held her ground. “It’s a pity you have no claws to fight with.” He shimmed and she felt the presence behind her this time. He leapt upon her like lightning, his blows cuffing her and she saw once again the claws headed towards her face.

“No!” Outside of the dream world, Araatris regained control of her limbs and firmly grasped the gem in her right hand.

Within the dream world, Araatris thrust up her hands and a blade appeared to block the clawed strike. “I have my own claws, monster.” She growled and snarled up at him. Araatris threw him off of her with a boost of strength. “I will not submit to you. Not now… not ever!”

The demon wiped at a small stream of blood from the corner of his mouth. He laughed, “Now this is more like it. Perhaps you are more woman than child!” He stood and gathered himself proudly. “Fight me, woman!”

“Gladly!” Araatris threw herself forward and found herself matching the demon’s pace and footwork. They weaved around the empty landscape like ballroom dancers. Their blows were rhythmic in time as they tested their openings, parried and thrust, dodged and moved. The openings were too far and too little and she could feel herself wearing down. The game had to end.

The creature had slipped up again. Perhaps he tired as well. It was a perfect opening as Araatris slipped under his arm and knocked his hooves out from under him. He was slower to recover than he had been previously and she crouched over his torso. Her blade tip pressed at the base of his neck until it drew blood. He heaved tiredly, but relented as she pressed harder.

The hum quieted as did the voice. She snarled at the crystal, “No… I will use you and your powers to quiet your kind. I will hunt them in the silence and they will not see their death coming. You are mine. Tell to me your true name, demon, so that I might bind you.”

It was soft and carried on the wind, “Malorin Shadowclaw.”

In a voice that Araatris didn’t recognize as her own, and in a musical language she did not speak, her voice rang out. The words they both understood. “I bind thee, Maloris Shadowclaw, by the blood that I have spilt. Thou will obey my call and commands at all times. Do you understand?”

“I understand… Mistress.”

Araatris’ heart pounded in her rib cage as her vision cleared as she stared at the crystal. Her voice was raw from the foreign languages of the demon. It no longer seemed wrong in her hands, but more like an old companion she could call upon. There was no doubt about the path she would follow now. She lowered the gemstone and placed it in a pouch, feeling none of earlier compulsion to hold onto it. She knew that when it was time and she was ready, then it would be as well.