| Senior Member
Join Date: Apr 2007 Location: The Scept'rd Isle (Scotland!)
Posts: 470
| The next day fared no better for the mage. He’d flown into Netherstorm and run into Heresy, patrolling the skies on the black drake, Dagda, bequeathed to her by his people. She was still partially in a state of shock over the gift, and partially over the fact that the beast could speak to her.
Discovering his personality and voice, she had no choice but to frown slightly when she asked him his name.
“By what name are you called?”
“Onyxien.”
Heresy looked confused a moment. “But..I have heard others called by this name also..”
The netherdrake nodded his elegant head in response. “You have. We are named by our skin, you see.”
“How do you …tell each other apart..?”
If a dragon could laugh quietly, in that moment the gentle beast did so. “You tell me of your heritage as a keeper of an animal spirit and you ask me this? Do animals NEED names, rogue?”
For a moment, Heresy only stood and stared back at the beast, realising her own error, and feeling suddenly so frustrated, again, for ignoring the part of own soul that so often had looked after her.
“You’re.. far too right, I’m afraid.” She sighed. “Of course not.”
The drake nuzzled her gently. “Its not of importance to us, but if it would suit you to name me, it is within your right, though I confess it may take me some time to get used to it.”
She patted his head and bit her lip, thinking.
“Dagda.” She finally said, quietly.
“Dag-da?” the dragon twisted his neck slightly, lifting his head, as if tasting the word.
“What is the meaning of this word?”
“It means, well.. I guess you could say it means ‘wise one’. That’s close enough. If…if you’ve no objection. I’m still not sure how I feel about naming you.”
Dagda blinked slowly and nuzzled her again, nearly bumping her backwards.
“It is not my name, Heresy, but only what you call me.”
“It fits.” She laughed softly.
“What of your wind rider?” the drake asked, turning back to Rebus, who was already yawning and stretching beneath a tree like a contented, lazy cat.
“Rebus..gets a well-deserved break. He took so many tumbles and made so many flights, I think he has earned some time in the comfort of Shattrath.”
“Our race owe him a great debt, as we do all of you that have chosen to aid us.”
“He’ll not know that, I think..”
She turned back to gaze at the tawny-headed windrider with her artificial sight, all menacing fangs and finely crafted violet and silver armour. His handsome coat covered with scars and scrapes, he’d aged some in the years she’d kept him, but never once had failed her, never once had let her down.
As she did, Rebus lifted his head and grunted softly, staring back at her, before resting it on his paws.
“…or maybe he does.” Heresy smiled, and turned back to the drake. “I must patrol Netherstorm, fancy taking me? I think I’ll let the old fellow rest..”
“Of course,” Dagda answered and lowered his neck to let her climb aboard.
Netherstorm was quiet. Heresy swung the drake low over Area 52 and came to a graceful landing near the Inn when she spied another, larger drake resting just outside.
She sniffed the air deeply, frowning slightly as she tried to determine why it was familiar to her.
“You see?” Dagda tilted his head back to her slightly. “Even you do not go by names first, not really.”
Heresy smiled. “I will remember next time, I hope. I fear there is little balance inside me right now, attention must be paid.”
With the last words of the sentence uttered, a slight tinge of chill found its way into the air and into her lungs. Faint and frosty, like early mornings before winter has properly arrived, just a hint of what is to come, enough to conjure images of cold and silent death.
She nodded to herself, realising whose then, it was.
“Zik…that’ll be his drake..”
“She is one of the armoured regiment..” Dagda eyed her over, chuckling to himself appreciatively. “I was never quite fast enough for their ranks..”
Heresy slid off his back and patted his flank as she listened. “You’re plenty fast for me, I can assure you. I like to see where I’m going.”
Dagda nodded, dropping his head slightly in deference as the larger female turned and eyed him, her head nearly covered in a finely crafted and ornate headpiece. In that moment the mage stepped out from behind her and greeted Heresy calmly.
“Heresy.” Zik bowed and smiled politely.
“General.” She smiled back. It was hard for her to forget old titles, be they Centurions or Generals, Orgrimmar and its own strange hierarchy had left its imprint on her. “What brings you so far North?”
“An appointment..nothing more.” He shrugged.
Heresy nodded.
“You?”
“Patrolling..well, you may know about this now that you’ve signed up with us…just making sure Netherstorm’s interests are looked after.”
The mage chuckled.
“Meaning..Haramad’s..”
“Well.. yes, to us anyway. What gets into Alliance hands doesn’t necessarily get into his…”
She grinned wickedly.
“Want some company?”
Heresy tilted her head and considered the offer, a bit surprised at his words.
“Well..er..sure? Be nice to have one more along, though mind you these days we rarely find much of anything up here. “
(to be continued)
Last edited by Heresy; 12-11-07 at 02:57 AM.
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