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Old 07-18-2011, 04:38 PM
Slywyn Slywyn is offline

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Join Date: Feb 2011
Location: LA. Not the cool one.
Posts: 5,784


Slywyn could feel some kind of semblance of coherent thought returning. It felt like it had been days since she had last been able to put one thought behind the other to create a train. Her entire body felt like it had been beaten and bruised, stomped on until bleeding, and then left to roast in the sun.

She couldn't even move, she felt so exhausted. They had seemingly put her through everything they could think of short of certain 'experiments' that would have killed her outright. Even so, the Orc in charge of her captivity had said several times he fully expected her to die at any point. That he was stretching the limits he knew of already.

Slywyn didn't like that that implied he'd taken other subjects to study before her.

She could feel it in the air that it seemed to be sometime in the evening, or perhaps the earlier parts of the night. Her vision had yet to be restored, leaving her in a constant and near-total state of blindness. She stretched her ears as well as she could, trying to hear -anything- she could. She was rewarded with an almost silent sound of a leather-covered foot scraping across the floor at the end of a step.

She froze even more still than she was already, barely letting herself take the shallow breaths her injuries allowed her. She heard the sound again. But it sounded... more, than it should. She listened, and heard it. There was a barely noticeable second sound behind the first.

Someone was sneaking around the Orcish camp. And there were two of them. Slywyn desperately hoped they were friends.

She continued listening, trying to track the movements of whoever it was as they continued through the stone halls. She knew she was too weak and injured to flee should they attempt to break her out or take her from this place, but she could hope that whoever it was could carry a message back to the Sentinels...

And that made Slywyn think. She vaguely remembered something from her Sentinel training. Something about sneaking. When scouting in pairs, Sentinels were... taught to step in unison to cut down on the sound. Her body went rigid. There were Sentinels in the Orcs' base.

Sly wanted to call out. Wanted to draw attention to herself in the hopes that they could come for her. She wanted so desperately for the pair to whisk her away to freedom. But her making noise would work against them. It could spook them. It could draw the attention of the Orcs. So she lay still. And quiet. And waited.

She continued to listen for the sound of steps being taken, but the sound was so faint and quiet that half the time she felt like she was imagining or hallucinating it. She also couldn't track the sound, as it was too soft for her to determine which direction it was coming from, other than it growing louder or softer as it moved away from or toward her.

Her first indication that her suspicions had been correct, and that she had been found, was a soft gasp that came from inside her room. It was quickly followed by a sharp intake of breath, and a whispered "By Elune...". Slywyn imagined that she must look quite the mess.

The sound of Darnassian, and the fact of the spoken exclamation, were enough for Sly to know that she had been found. By Night Elves. And Sentinels, at that. She wanted to cry. To shout. To make any sound of joy. But she held herself. She opened her eyes, only just realizing she had closed them to try to hear the soft sound of footsteps better.

She opened her mouth to whisper, to try to communicate to them somehow, keeping her voice as quiet as she could manage and still create speech. "Sisters...?"

She could feel as well as hear as the two Sentinels practically rushed to the cage, keeping their voices low. They spoke almost in unison, a twinned pair. Rare, but not unheard of, especially in scouting positions. "You live! Your injuries..."

It started to hit Sly now, just how much of a mess she must have been, that they thought her dead instead of still living. Her spirits sunk, her estimation of how long she had left to live dropping by the moment. "Are survivable." She lied as best she could. "Do you bring help?"

She could hear one of the sisters draw in another breath. But she couldn't quite detect the change in her voice. Slywyn was so elated that someone was here that she wasn't paying enough attention. But she could tell as she spoke that her hope was not well placed.

"Sister... It's Slywyn." The voice came from one side of her cage, the reply from another.

"... It is." The sister's voice deadpanned, no longer elated at finding the elf alive.

Slywyn's voice faltered, panic starting to creep into her mind. They knew of her past. They knew what she'd done. They were going to leave her here. She pleaded with them. "Please... just get me out of here. I'll leave the Sisters alone. I'll leave our lands completely. Please..."

She could hear the two stepping away from the cage, and they spoke as one. "You deserve this, Ravenwind. And you were exiled. We are not allowed to provide assistance to exiles. May your death be prolonged when it comes." They paused, and one of them spoke up separate from the other. "It shouldn't be long."

They went silent, as Sly lay there still in her cage. She could hear their footsteps retreating as the two withdrew from the Orcish camp. She listened until she could no longer hear the footsteps, real or imagined.

She felt as if something inside her had just died. But she could feel something else growing within her. Something familiar. A great rage welled up inside her.

They had -left- her here. To die. Slywyn had protected her people for years. Fought in wars. And when she defended herself and killed another, they all turned their backs on her.

Slywyn felt like some kind of fog descended over her thoughts, then. Things no longer seemed to come as clearly as they had before. All she could feel was this horrible throbbing rage at everyone. Her people. The Orcs. The Humans that had come to the forest before.

All of them had done wrong. None of them could be absolved. She hated every single last one of them, from the oldest elder, to the youngest child.

Slywyn lay in her cage then, and seethed. She let the rage inside of herself have free reign. She felt changed. Like her old self had died, and something else had taken it's place.

She welcomed it.
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