Thousands and thousands of words, all roiled around, crescendoing into a monstrous cacophony of agony within his mind. And alone, Elvae stood, surrounded by thousands and thousands of faces he'd seen time, and time again. His friends from Argus. Draenor. Outland. Northrend. The places, and faces, went on and on, seemingly endless. The sea of bodies screamed and writhed in place, belittling Elvae for all he'd done. Torture, murder, abandonment, were just three of the countless deeds they screamed at him, again and again. The most prominent voices, were his family's. His father screamed at him for betraying him. For plunging a sword into his heart. His mother wept about the loss of her husband, blaming Elvae, rightfully so. His brother and sister shouted cursing at him for leaving them behind on Draenor. If he had taken them with him, they thought, maybe they could've been cured.
The voices went on and on, and Elvae stood stoically, taking it all in. There was no use fighting it. Covering his ears did nothing to drown out the sound. He'd scream his throat raw, but it would do no good. Nothing could temper the voices.
Or so he thought.
Suddenly, a hush fell over the sea of faces. The silence was so jarring, Elvae actually jumped. He looked around frantically, trying to see what was happening. All of the people he saw, were staring, behind him.
Elvae dared to turn, and lay his eyes upon whatever had the faces so enthralled.
Behind him, stood a human woman.
She looked about eighteen. Black hair, which normally would've fallen to her shoulders, was wound up in a tight bun behind her head. She had on a jet black robe, with purple gloves.
Even though she barely stood up to his stomach, he still backpedaled, cowering.
"C-Ceyel. . . no. . . n-not. . . tonight," he pleaded, dropping to his knees. She stared at him with her scarlet eyes, those orbs roaming his person. She wrinkled her nose in disgust, sauntering over to him. She lifted her foot and planted it firmly on his thigh, which sent shockwaves through his body, though he dared not move. She then leaned in close to his face.
"You -murdered- me," she whispered, digging her heel into his thigh. "You tore me limb, from limb, and impaled them on stones. You ended my life, before it had even truly begun," she spat, venom dripping from every word. Elvae's lower lip quivered, and he looked up at her, attempting to meet her eyes, but quickly averted his gaze as her fist met his chin.
"You don't deserve to look at me," she hissed, grinding her heel into his thigh deeper, threatening to break skin. "You don't deserve the air you -breathe-. Your friends are fools, for not seeing that. Your precious Caniell, Lestuu, Maureen, Amara. . ." she trailed off, furrowing her brow. "And your new friend. Nythallas. She said you were -strong-," she says, shaking her head, uttering a short bark of bitter laughter. She then released his thigh from the pressure of her foot, instead opting to bring said foot crashing into the side of his head. His head snapped to the right and he fell over, laying on his back. She then steps forward, placing her foot on his throat. Tears spilled from Elvae's eyes as he gripped her ankle. "C-Ceye-"
"ENOUGH!" she shouted, pressing down hard on his throat to cut him off. "She called you -strong-. What a waste of the word. If you were -strong-, half of these people wouldn't be dead," she says, gazing out at the sea of bodies, before returning her scarlet eyes to him.
"You are, and always will be, a demon, Elvae," she spat. Elvae struggled to breathe, gasping like a fish. Ceyel sneered down at him.
He could hear the thunderous footsteps of the sea around him, as they closed in on him. Ceyel looked deeply into his eyes as they surrounded him, and began to tear into his flesh with their eager hands. Elvae tried to cry out, but the sound was muffled as Ceyel pressed further onto his throat, sneering triumphantly. Just as his siblings reached out with their hands, everything around him faded to smoke, and he awoke to a knock at his office door.
Elvae shot up, gasping for air. He clawed at his throat wildly, before looking around, finally realizing where he was. He leaned back in his chair, sighing heavily, before there was another knock at his door. He stood up wearily, and walked to the door, opening it.
Nythallas stood there, smiling up at him. When she saw the expression on his face, she frowned, looking him over. "Are you alright?" she asked, clearly concerned. Elvae nodded, wiping his face idly. "I'm. . . f-fine. What did you need?" he asked, opening the door wider. "I was just coming to check on you, that's all. . . some passing students said they heard shouting, from your office. . ." she says, trailing off, furrowing her brow, and meeting his eyes. "Nightmare?" she asks, crossing her arms. Elvae stared at her for a few moments, before walking away, leaving his door open. He sat in his chair, leaning backwards, as she walked in and closed the door behind her, turning to stare at him. He sat silently for a few moments, before stirring.
"It always starts the same."