It would never end well.Įyes opened as she inhaled, and exhaled slowly. So why was she different? They could come for her if they knew the truth. It had worked for so many other disciples that survived the Sha corruption at the Temple, those that had not been cut down. She was a danger to them, even if they had believed the purification ritual had worked. If they were to turn their back on her even now…then she would accept that. Just her reputation as a Crane Wing disciple. A fresh start…yet not everything had to be lost. How fascinating it was, that her ending would bring about another beginning. The seed of pain had grown, and the world that had let him suffer so much would witness a bloom of posted by meat-vendor When he stepped through, he would be home again. In the “true” timeline, none of this pain existed. That was the life he should have, the one he deserved. It was one thing to have spoken with his other self. There will be no turning back when the moment arrives.” She examined the clawed gauntlets covering her hands, their silver catching the light. “Are you prepared, Luminash?” she asked, “When the timeways converge again, we will make our move. She offered him too much, an opportunity he could scarcely allow to pass by. When Caeridormi had revealed she was no Bronze interested in aiding the magister’s growth, he had balked. It still did not feel like his own skin, stretched tight by scarring every time he flexed his fingers, yet what was left for him? An empty life, living in a world built on a teetering tower of the Titan’s lies?īeside him, a woman, skin utterly pallid, robes the deepest black – matching her hair – and inlaid in silver, the colors of the Infinite dragonflight. The focusing crystals draped over his robes blazed from within with the sickly violet of shadowflame, and his exposed skin was charred and cracked. He waited, standing silently in the shade of one of Thaldraszus many crags, an illusion woven around himself to keep him safe from prying eyes. Every timeway felt the ripples of what the Infinites were attempting in the “true” timeline, the disturbances, the fraying of threads, and the ability to simply slip through. The magister had projected himself through the timeways once before, when the walls were weakest, when the infinitely branching paths Azeroth could have taken collapsed and bled through. Present day, in the final moments of one man’s broken timeway…Ī seed planted in the heart, a kernel of loss, festering with the sting of failure and warmed by pain unceasing, could never bloom into anything other than what had to come, Luminash was certain of it.
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