A Shield's Promise

The faint flame in the Keep's hearth casts a sullen glow over the chairs and armaments stacked nearby. A lone figure is perched on the seat closest to the hearth, elbows resting on his knees and features hidden behind his hands. His attire is simple, shoulders bare and hunched in a dark blue sleeveless shirt, dark trousers stopping just before a set of hooves. A shimmering crystal shield and axe rest against the next chair over, firelight reflecting off the metal. They seem to have been in recent use, blood still caked on the blade's edge. A tankard is sitting on the floor next to him, nearly drained. Aside from the faint crackling of the small fire burning nearby, the hall is quiet. 

Dead.

The word seems to echo off the quiet stone walls. With a soft sigh the figure lifts his head, using the palm of his hand to wipe at a wet streak down his cheek. Zerov continues to stare downward toward his hooves, eyes hooded with exhaustion. He remains still for a few more moments before reaching down to a small haversack leaning against his chair leg, pulling out a faded journal and pen, opening up to a partially blank page. His gaze moves to the page and the various attempts to start an entry, most of which were scribbled or scratched out. 

I should have done more to h

Why does this happen every tim

It should have been m

Fuck

The draenei lets out a frustrated sigh and reaches down to grab his tankard and lift it to his lips, quickly downing the last bit in one swig. Swiping at the edge of his mouth to rid himself of some of the foam from the drink, he sets the empty tankard down with a loud clatter. He'd lost count on how many drinks he'd had at this point. Not that it mattered. 

You let her die. Again.

Zerov's eyes close once more as the errant voice passes through his mind, cutting through his thoughts like a knife. The voices had been coming and going since they left the battlefield, passing in nothing more than a whisper of the wind. He'd seriously considered seeking Rian'vys out to beg for some of the drugs the elf had spoken of before, or some of his special drink. Anything, so long as the voices would leave him alone. He didn't need to hear them repeat what he already knew. 

You didn't even try to go back to help her.

"But I wanted to..." His voice is coarse, quiet. The words come out as barely a whisper. "I wanted to go back with Folcan and Fro...but she wouldn't have wanted that." Loathe as he was to admit it, he'd nearly run back into the plagued field right alongside his fellow Lions without a second thought. But at the last second he'd seen her smile through the flames and the green fog overtaking her, and he couldn't make his legs move forward. He remembered what it was like to disappoint her, and he didn't want that to be her last image of him. He wanted to preserve that smile, even if it was from the Shadowlands. So he did what he had to. 

You'll never be able to protect those you care about. 

There it was. Of all of the voices that had been passing in and out of his mind on repeat, that was always the one that stung the most. It was the only one he fully believed, and it cut all the deeper for it. "I know." The draenei opens his eyes and looks over towards the hearth, watching the flickering flames in silence for a second before turning his head to the other side. His gaze falls upon the shield resting against the chair next to him, gleaming proudly in the faint firelight. Almost mockingly. 

You don't deserve that shield.

He continues to stare down at the shield for a moment, eyes half-lidded, before he moves to rise stiffly from his seat. Z wobbles slightly as he pushes himself up, having to grab onto the back of his chair to keep from tipping over. Sauntering over to the other chair, he carefully lifts the shield up, holding it in both hands and staring down at his distorted reflection. "Light, I look like shit," he mutters, looking away and starting for the stairs. 

Zerov makes his way quietly through the darkened keep towards the entrance, deliberately making his way through the halls to try and avoid coming into contact with as many people as he can. Stepping out into the cover of night, he pauses and glances back over his shoulder towards the keep entrance. Once he's sure no one is following him, he sets out into the darkness, stepping carefully and glancing up towards the partially obscured moon and stars above as he navigates through the darkened forest. 

It takes some navigating, and some probably incorrect turns at times, but eventually the faint lights and outline of the Quel'Danil Lodge comes into view. The draenei approaches slowly, taking just enough time to acknowledge the couple sentries posted around the outskirts before continuing on towards the back of the lodge's grounds. He makes his way to a familiar small gazebo near the waterfall, the soft roar of the falling water temporarily drowning out the voices. 

Disregarding the seat beneath the wooden shelter, he moves to the edge of the gazebo's cover and kneels beneath the open sky. Holding his shield between both hands still, Z looks skyward. He takes a moment to observe the stars hovering above before swallowing heavily. "I am sorry, Iz'ahare." He pauses for a moment, his quiet words carried off under the faint sounds of the water flowing nearby. 

"I know I've been the cause of at least some disappointment in the past, for both of you. And I'm sorry." He takes a moment to look down to the shield in his hands, the crystals giving off a faint sheen in the moonlight before returning his gaze to the stars. "I want to do better, though. I've been trying, but I know I can do more. You've done so much for me over my life, made me a better person. I just want to make you proud, show you how much of an impact you've had on everyone you've come into contact with. That you left the world a far better place than it was found." He pauses again, absently running a finger over this front of the shield as he looks back down to it.

"I want to be able to deserve this shield." Blue eyes lift toward the stars once more. "I give you my word on this shield that I'll do whatever I can to help keep the Servitors and your family, and anyone else that I'm able to safe. I know all you ever wanted was peace. That's not something I'll ever be able to promise, but I'll do what I can to help get us there."  With a soft sigh, he sits back in the grass, resting the shield against his leg, still looking skyward.

"I hope the two of you are able to find some peace finally, after all of these years. It's more than deserved. If you happen to see them, let my mother and sister know that I'm alright. Or, at least trying to be." Water has begun to well up beneath his eyes once more, pooling for a few seconds before the tears finally break free and the flow steadily down his cheeks, the wet trails left behind darkening his cheeks. 

"I promise I'll do what I can."