Karp
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Chapter 163
🕑 Added 2025-02-04 11:39:02 +0000 UTCWithin Varrus's dream within the Emerald Dream, time passed even slower. Taking advantage of this fact, Varrus spent a couple hours with the lonely Dragon.
In all honesty, it was a little awkward, as she was an attractive woman, and she very clearly had feelings for him, but generally speaking, it was a wholesome experience.
Varrus dredged up memories of art museums, and music he had enjoyed. It was pretty funny to see Ysera get excited when she listened to rock'n roll, and hip hop for the first time.
She very clearly suspected him of something, but didn't press into his secrets.
After a few hours had passed, Varrus ended everything with a fireworks performance.
A crowd of illusory people within a valley pointed up at the sky, hushed whispers, cheers, and all sorts of revelry was taking place, setting the atmosphere.
Sitting on a hill overlooking the night sky, Varrus licked at an ice cream cone, and reminisced over the lost flavor of vanilla. As the cool, sweet sensation entered his mouth, and the warm summer’s night breezed across his skin, Varrus recalled how much he missed the comforts of Earth.
“You're lonely too, huh?” Ysera said between licks at her rocky road. All the while, she never turned to him, and kept her gaze fixated on the light show.
Varrus's grip tightened, and some vanilla dripped onto his hand as he remained silent at Ysera's question. He had Syra, Rho'dan, Kael, and more…but his family were lost to him forevermore.
For all intents and purposes, they were dead.
Yes. Yes, he was lonely.
“It's okay, you don't have to say anything. It’s just funny to have such a thought. Someone like you is so powerful now, but all your life, Elven society thought you were a fop. I can't really reconcile the man you are, with what everyone thought you were.” Ysera turned to look at him as if he were some puzzle that needed to be solved.
“I get that a lot.” Varrus sighed as he willed the stickiness away from his hand.
“You're funny, Varrus. You're nothing like how I imagined you would be.” Ysera covered her mouth, and softly chuckled.
“Hrm?” Varrus questioned with a raised eyebrow.
“Well, we haven't talked much, but you seem to always put on this tough guy ‘I'm in charge’ persona. But after spending some time with you casually, you're not really tough at all!”
“Oof, you've got me there. Guess I’m not the perfect paragon you were chasing after, huh?” Varrus teased.
“See, that's sarcasm! You really know how to make a girl jealous, jerk.” Ysera rolled her eyes, and pouted.
“Yeah, yeah.” Varrus rolled his eyes back, and said dismissively.
Watching the fireworks reach their crescendo, Varrus ignored Ysera, and watched something he remembered from long ago in his childhood.
Glancing down below, Varrus watched a man resembling his father from Earth, along with his son on his shoulders. The man excitedly pointed up as the finale came to an end, and the bright lights reflected off the young boy's face, showing his joy.
A moment of silence passed, as the darkness of night hid Varrus from sight, and a tear spilling down his cheek.
“It was fun, Ysera. We'll have to do something like this again.” Varrus said after some time, making sure his voice was level, and composed.
“Yeah. Just promise me one thing.” Ysera said into the darkness. Her voice was quiet, sounding as if it was but barely a whisper.
“What is it?”
“...Don't forget about me.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Breaking out of the dream within a dream, Varrus opened his eyes, and noticed that everyone else that had been trapped under Ysera's paralysis had also regained their freedom.
Without any hesitation, Syra blitzed Ysera, and began swinging. Following her up, Omen was growling at the Green Dragon, and Nightsong + Rho'dan had adopted a defensive posture, looking at Varrus with care, to see if he had been negatively impacted.
“Stand down, stand down! This was all a test to see if there were any hidden traitors that had slipped into our ranks! I had to be sure everyone here was who they said they were, and Ysera helped me out. Abort!” Varrus was quick to cry out.
At the same time, he reached his hand out, and yoinked Syra back with a quick application of telekinesis.
Pulling his lovable murder machine into his arms, Varrus tenderly rubbed her shoulders, and made her look into his eyes.
Perhaps sensing his recent emotional turmoil, Syra stopped her kill everything in sight mode, and cupped Varrus by the chin.
She was a woman of few words, and loathed talking, but at this moment, she very clearly recognized he had undergone some difficulties. This only seemed to make her conflicted, as with one hand, she still held her blade, pointing at Ysera, whereas the other held him in a death grip, unwilling to unhand him for any reason.
Blinking at her, Varrus felt sorry that he had made her feel so unnerved, and gave Syra a reassuring grin.
“We'll talk about it later.” Varrus whispered, and squeezed her hand.
Syra stared unblinkingly into his eyes, then turned to Ysera.
The Green Dragon had her eyes closed once again, and hadn't moved to dodge whatsoever.
“Oh dear, what a dangerous plan. Here I thought you had chosen such a disastrous route. Good for you, Ysera.” Aessina floated next to Ysera, and said in reassurance.
“Thank you, Aessina. It's nice to hear the vote of confidence.” Ysera humbly bowed.
“Although maybe you aren't ready for boys if you allow any handsome rogue to concoct such a hairbrained scheme.” Aessina admonished like an aunty.
“So you didn't believe if we were real or illusions?” Nightsong looked at Varrus, clearly wise to his bullshit, but not explicitly pointing it out.
At the same time, she went back to her notepad, and seemed to be comparing how he was acting now, compared to how he acted in the past.
“Of course. If someone wanted to backstab me, going through the people I love would be the best method.” Varrus said with great certainty.
This time, Nightsong smiled, as Varrus was actually telling the truth here.
“So it's over then?” Rho'dan asked.
“Yes, this dream has come to an end, but it will not remain forgotten.” Varrus said meaningfully.
Afterwards, everyone said their goodbyes, and they left the Emerald Dream, returning for Azeroth.
Blinking his eyes open, Varrus noticed that it was dusk outside. By his estimate, only a few hours had passed in reality, whereas he had spent probably around a day in the dream.
Looking around, Faedra and Maeve were nowhere to be found, and the entire area surrounding the broken city of Deatholme was torn to shreds, as this had been the site of his and Malfurion's epic duel.
Clenching his fist, Varrus wished Faedra was around so he could give her a good smack to the face. The conditions he had seen in Syra's dream had made him apocalyptic with fury. Furthermore, she had been afk for the big fight against Nozdormu. He got that she was out of the city chasing Illidan, and couldn't blame her for not having spies amongst literal time Dragons. But it was the principle of the matter. Every other Elf that was of any consequence had fought for the Sunwell, Varrus couldn't help but be miffed that she or her posse of clowns had avoided the conflict altogether.
Letting out a pent up breath, Varrus looked out into the horizon with a weight on his chest.
He had done it, he'd restored the Sunwell, and killed the strongest foe yet. Then when he was about to slowly build up his forces, and plot the demise of the Lich King, he had been beaten to it.
Now, instead of careful consideration, he had to act against the Scourge soon if he wanted to take advantage of their instability.
With the Lich King's death, the psychic signal tethering the Scourge together as one large, cohesive force was no more. The time to strike was now. Now that they were disorganized, the Undead were at their most vulnerable.
And yet, he had lost 60-80% of his golems, half the floating weapons platforms, and all but 3 of his Towers of Jenga. The only solace was that roughly a thousand Elves died during the Bronze Dragonflight's invasion, but for a people so limited in number, those were casualties he could ill afford to lose.
If he recalled correctly, he had made a general plan with the other members of the Convocation to launch a new assault against the Scourge in 3 days time.
That meant Varrus was going to have to work his ass off to recast enchanted bricks, and help build floating buildings + golems like a man possessed!
Rubbing his face, Varrus felt the despair of an overworked man who never saw his kids, and was getting paid overtime, except the overtime was taxed so heavily, it was barely worth the work.
“I need a vacation.” Varrus said aloud to himself.
“I am sorry you have had to work so hard, son. Know that I am proud of you, always.” Nightsong placed a hand on his shoulder, and comforted.
“Aye, you have forever to enjoy. Times of strife like these are hard and dirty, but rarely last more than 20 years.” Rho'dan offered his own wisdom from the perspective of someone who had experienced millenia.
“I want to see your plays again.” Syra said in a quiet, longing voice.
Varrus's ears twitched, and he imagined the sour faces of all the other Elves, as this time, they really would be ‘forced’ to clap for him, as he was tied for most powerful figure in society at the moment.
“Thank you, mother, Rho'dan, Syra, for always being with me. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. I'll be needing you in these coming days to defeat the Scourge. There are millions of them, and even with our renewed strength, and my newfound power, even then, it shall be a monumental struggle.” Varrus looked each and every member of his family in the eyes, and conveyed to them just how much they meant to him, as well as the severity of the dangers they would face.
“It is my honor to serve you, Highlord. Should I die, it will be blocking poisoned blades from piercing your hide.” Rho'dan loudly slammed his gauntleted fist into his cuirass, and saluted.
“Kun. Drem. Dun.” Nightsong shouted.
(Light. Peace. Grace)
An aura of serenity filled the air, and all the dark memories such as-his extreme pain/near death at Nozdormu's & Malfurion's hands earlier in the day, as well as Syra's past, and what Xavius had almost accomplished-these dark events became like wispy clouds, distantant and unremarkable.
Varrus looked at his mother in thanks, as this latest venture had weighed him down greatly. It had been a very jarring experience for him, and only his transmigration had left him with a sense of helplessness somewhat mirrored by the time he spent in Syra's consciousness. If he didn't have her bound dagger…he didn't even want to imagine such an outcome.
While he was being introspective, Nightsong began to say a few words after her Shout.
“I look forward to instructing you, Varrus. We will have time to learn about one another in more detail. I won't let anything happen to you.” Nightsong squeezed his shoulder, and smiled.
Lastly, Syra clunked her forehead onto his, and stared him in the eyes.
No words were said, yet everything that needed to be communicated was received.
They were a team. She was his, and he was hers. They would always be together.
Varrus grinned at them. His family.
Closing his eyes, Varrus soaked it all in, and when he looked at all of them, felt as if he was about to say something meaningful, when a sudden commotion broke out.
Head covered in a bag, Omen ran onto the scene, and was running in circles as if he was in a full on panic.
The golden retriever must have been having the time of his life, and rammed straight into Varrus's chest, making him fall with an oomph.
Bag falling off his head, Omen finally recognized Varrus, and gave him a big, slobbery lick across the face.
Varrus was torn between disgust, and awe at the doggo.
Shaking his head, Varrus started laughing, and began to pet Omen on the head.
Yeah, he had a new family now, and he even made a friend. Maybe he was lonely, but that didn’t mean he had to let it get him down.
The Scourge still needed an ass kicking, and he was the man for the job!
“Ahem. I don't mean to interrupt your ‘plotting,’ Highlord, but a party is currently underway at the Sunwell. I don't like to insist that you do anything, and I know how much you hate showing off, but I must insist that you show everyone that you are the one responsible for the Sunwell's renewal. For yourself, and for the dignity of House Vandercross, I beseech you.” Rho'dan said with great solemnity, and deeply bowed at a 90 degree angle, as if he were some formal Japanese man.
Varrus was embarrassed by Rho'dan's serious plea, and scratched the back of his head. He was thinking about denying his request, because he really, really could use some sleep.
However, one look at his mother and wife told him he didn't really have a choice in the matter.
“Haaah, well, I guess I have a speech in me. Let's go, we don't want Tae'thelon snatching up all the credit I suppose.” Varrus sighed, and tossed out his flying carpet.
When he stepped aboard, he noticed a sly smile coming from Rho'dan, but Varrus could only roll his eyes.
Bastard really used his wife and mother against him. Varrus would remember this.
‘Don't think I won't tattle to your sugar momma, my tall redheaded friend.’ Varrus thought to himself as he smirked back.
Finishing that thought, Varrus began to take flight.
Once this party was over, it was going to be nonstop grinding over the next three days in preparation for this war.
By the end of it all, the Scourge would be nothing but a bitter memory, Varrus would make sure of that.
