Fallen (Part 9) - Strangers

They secured the paladin firmly, tying her to the chair at several points, in order to be sure she would not manage to break free. Just in case.

“Try to relax,” the priest soothed, her voice soft and comforting. “Let your tension go, envision it lifting from you…”

“Bloody hard ta relax, right now,” the dwarf grumbled under her breath. “I’m tied ta this bloody chair, and someone keeps chattering at me.”

“You’re the one who wanted to be tied, stubborn dwarf,” Lyirdanna chided.

“It’s safer this way, in case I go bloody crazed on ye again.”

“Never mind that now,” the priest said, with a sharp, silencing glance first at one, then the other. “Now, Branwynne, just close your eyes and try to relax. Breath deeply.”

She nodded tersely, then closed her eyes and tried to focus on releasing the tension within herself. She concentrated on her breathing, and slowly felt the pressure of her neck and shoulders ease.

“There. Good. We’re almost ready.”

A pair of warm hands gripped her shoulders gently. There was a sudden, brilliant burst of light.

Then everything was gone.
_____

The priest stood behind the seated dwarf, eyes closed, focused on the task. After a long moment of silence, she nodded.

“You’re right, Lyir,” the priest confirmed. “There is something – someone – in there.”

The druid frowned. “Is it demonic? Can you tell?”

Silence, as the priest probed further. “No, no I don’t think so. It... the presence seems linked to the fel taint, there,” she tilted her head towards the dwarf’s bandaged left hand, “… but is not demonic itself.”

“Can you tell what it is? Why it’s tied to Branwynne?”

“Why don’t you ask it? I can bring it to the fore, though not for long.” The priest concentrated a moment, then nodded again.

Lyirdanna leaned down towards the dwarf’s still face. “Who are you?”

Grey-green eyes opened suddenly. “What do you want, elf?” The voice was harsh, dry, and slightly hollow.

“Who are you? What do you want?”

“Stop meddling. You endanger yourself, and those around you.”

“Is that a threat?”

“No. A warning, elf. You don’t know what you’re dealing with…”

“I’m dealing with you, you… whatever you are!” snapped the druid, eyes flashing. “Possessing my friend. Trying to cause her harm…”

“Harm?” A cold, sharp bark of laughter. “No, not harm. Cure. The only cure. The taint, the fel energies, the brand – they need to be removed.”

“Not that way. The salve…”

“Only delays the inevitable,” the voice cut in. “Cut it out now, and minimize the damage. Free her from the taint. And me.”

“And you? Who are you?” Lyirdanna snarled. “Tell us, damn you!”

“Your curses mean naught to me.” The eyes closed again, tiredly. “Damned I am, damned I was, now and forever. By my own hand, and by my own choice.” The bandaged hand clenched, and the eyes opened again, blazing with a fierce determination that set the druid aback. “I’ll not have this one damned as well.”

“Who ARE you?” the druid growled.

The blazing green eyes regarded her for a silent moment of cold calculation.

“I am Deathknight Stelh, of the Order of the Shattered Mountain. Subaltern of the Fourth Talon, Deathreaper Company. Among the elite deathknight troops, sworn in service to Deathlord Taelan Fordring, Commander of the Azerothian Corps. Part of the Burning Legion.”