Breakfast

Breakfast

Eggs.

Though drifting somewhere between wakefulness and sleep, Thalo'thas was quite sure he smelled the scent of eggs being cooked with some sort of meat. His eyes fluttered open, and he stared at the ceiling for some time while he tried to place the scent before realising that it was within the walls of his own shore-side home. Astounded, the Blood Elven captain quickly darted out of bed and to the door of his room before it occurred to him that he might need more protection than his nightshirt; dressing haphazardly, the rogue finally slipped out of his bedroom and made his way into the shadows and then downstairs.

Circling around the main hall, he made his way towards the kitchen, unsure of who would have dared entered the building without first arranging to - while the Thalo'dan Privateers were a bunch of raucous sailors, they gave their commanders a certain level of respect. As captain, he was not above giving one of his subordinates a sound thrashing or a good cut or two for less than trespassing upon a higher-ranking member's holdings.

He did not find any wayward crewmen in his kitchen, nor the mess hall cook experimenting again. What he did find gave him pause, and as he stood up to full height, the shadows that veiled him fell and drifted along the floor towards the woman standing before the stove and goblin icebox before pooling beneath her leather-clad feet.

"...you can cook?" Thalo'Thas asked, bewildered.

The woman turned to look at him, shrugging a bare shoulder. In contrast to their previous meeting, her flame-coloured mail was replaced by a few bits of tightly bound leather strips and a multi-paneled skirt that danced about her sigil-covered legs as she moved about the kitchen. Her hair was pulled up into a tail at the crown of her head, and her goggles lay upon the table atop the thin strip of silk she typically wore over her eyes. Two Fel-flame filled voids looked back at him, unblinking in their perfect and empty eye sockets.

"Many refuse to serve us," she said simply, mixing the eggs in the frying pan a bit more before folding them around some meaty bits. "It was either cook what I killed or starve - especially after Kael'thas' betrayal."

Shaking his head, the captain lowered himself into one of the chairs placed at the table, green eyes watching his sister work effortlessly despite her lack of conventional sight. It occurred to him then that he had no idea how she saw at all, and a chill creeped along the back of his neck and spine as he watched her make three more omelettes and pair of freshly-squeezed melon juices. Despite his earlier assurances to himself and to his sister...Thalos'thas felt a genuine fear of what she had become.

Before he could formulate any more thought on the matter, a leather-bound scarred hand placed a plate of three omelets before him while the unmarred hand placed a glass of melon juice next to it. Within a second or two, a matching plate and glass were placed across the table beside the discarded silk and goggles as his sister sat down.

Dumbly, Thalo'thas murmured, "I see."

The pair ate in silence for several minutes. While it was quickly clear that the woman was quite used to complete silence, though when her whelpling sqwarked she reflexively murmured to it before tossing a bit of the omelet down under the table. Her brother, on the other hand, was quite awkward and shifted nervously in his chair while he ate, trying to think of a topic to discuss.

She broke the silence for him, though he wasn't sure if she realised his discomfort.

"One does not need eyes to see, brother," she echoed, the sound of her voice raising the hairs on the back of his neck. "I merely just do not see as you do any longer."

Taking her words as an open invitation, Thalos'thas quietly asked, "...how exactly do you see, Ona? I mean, I've heard stories, but I want to know the truth of it."

She remained silent for a long time, her eyelids moving in such a fashion as if to suggest looking him over. It was both terrifying and oddly fascinating all in the same moment, and her brother found himself studying the face that was once so familiar. Finally, she sighed and began making a motion as if to outline his form.

"It's been some time since you sated your need for energies, Thalo," she whispered, "and even longer since you've sapped the essence of demons. I see you as the form I remember, except you are made up of different shades of light...so dim right now."

Thalos'thas watched his sister intently, and slowly began to see the slight shifting of the Fel-flames as his sister's "eyes" looked about him and the room surrounding them. Though they did not move in the same fashion that his own did, the orbs twisted and danced differently as they looked out upon the world. It was almost hypnotic to watch, and he soon realised that she was staring directly back into his eyes as if waiting for him to regain his senses.

"And the rest of the world?" he finally managed to ask.

"Dark shadow, as if the Twisting Nether were about me constantly yet lacking the comforting dull light that permeates it," she replied. "I live in an unending shadow, punctuated by the light of others and the burning flames of the Legion's servants. With a glance, I could tell you who in Silvermoon has given themselves over to the Burning Crusades and who merely devoured a demon's energies."

She ended the statement by lifting her glass and drinking, leaving Thalo'thas to question the integrity of those within the walls of Silvermoon City even more. He was largely on the fringe of Blood Elven society due to his career choices, but it never occurred to him that there may be followers of Kael'thas and the demon master whom he captured the Sunwell Plateau for. Perhaps he should finally move the last of his holdings there to Ratchet's safer shores...

His head lifted sharply as another realisation dawned on him, and he stared carefully at his sister before finding the words he was seeking. Unsure of her reaction to what he was about to ask, he steeled himself for a violent reaction as he waited till her attention was focused on the world again.

"And what of that boy," he began.

The shadows within the room seemed to rush his sister, twisting about her flesh and clothing as she stood and slammed her fists down on either side of her plate. The tie binding back her hair snapped as the shadows reached it, the platinum silk strands merging with the shadows to float about her shoulders as she glared at Thalos'thas.

"You will not speak that name to me," she roared, her voice resounding through the entire room as it echoed upon itself. "He betrayed the Sin'dorei and deserves death at the side of his masters like the rest of the Dawnblade heathens!"

Her burning eyes flared brightly as she stared down at her brother, brilliant flames dancing across her shadowed hands. Without another word, she snatched up her strip of silken cloth and goggles, knocking over the chair as she rushed for the doorway and the open air of the sea. For a long moment after her departure, Thalo'thas remained cowering in his chair, struck dumb by her reaction to his unfinished question.

An echoing scream made him cringe, and he released that whatever she was now, she at least still had the sense to turn her fury on those more deserving of death than her own brother. Slowly, the captain took another bite of his omelet and washed it down with a long draw of juice before muttering into the empty air.

"Well, at least we need not worry about those human seadogs for some time..."

Namesake

Namesake

Reunions

Reunions