//------------------------------// // Passage // Story: Through the Nether // by StormDancer //------------------------------// "Your Majesties, the rooms are prepared as you have requested. The Guard have been suitably stationed beyond the second bulwark. Refreshments and medical supplies have been delivered. Court has been closed for the day and existing supplicants have been supplied with temporary lodging as well as compensation for their recorded employment," Kibitz stated with an air of satisfaction before noticing a smudge upon the marble tile of the room the three princesses currently occupied. "Thank you Kibitz, that will be all then. Please enjoy your break but remain within the courtyard should we have need of your services," Celestia offered before stifling a smile as the elderly stallion surreptitiously wiped a faint patch of grime from a tile before bowing and departing. For a few moments Celestia, Luna and Twilight Sparkle stood quietly before Luna's rich voice cut through the calm. "it would be wise to delay no longer, the creature is injured and adrift. I see no purpose in delaying further. If Cadence is unable to teleport such a great distance, it is unlikely that she will arrive in time to assist the creature before it succumbs." Twilight, youngest of the three by far, glanced up with interest. The first she had heard of this 'creature' had been upon entering the hall and her natural curiosity fought stalwartly against prudence... her inclination being to throw caution to the wind in an effort to discover the creature's secrets. Luna had attempted to open communications with it before Twilight had even arrived, but had discovered nothing beyond silence and a sense of persistent magic - perhaps what was keeping the creature itself alive. Indeed, Luna had still been focused intently upon the vastly overpowered spell when Twilight had walked in and been invited to 'partake of the night within the day'... something she had jumped at. Despite Luna's assurances that the creature was yet alive, Twilight's sensitive ears heard nothing over the faint tinkling of the spell itself. An amused, though no less concerned, Celestia had nearly resorted to applying a crowbar to separate the young princess from her sister when Twilight's focus caused her to lose track of time. "Twilight, though I'm sure Luna would like few things more than to spend hours discussing the grand tapestry of her night with you, we might have a bit more of a direct method of learning about the creature ... should we take the time to summon it here as planned." Though momentarily startled, Twilight's bright blush and quick "Sorry Princess!" brought a smile to Celestia's face. After all, the two had been nearly inseparable for the better part of Twilight's life and seeing her excitement and hunger for knowledge was something that Celestia still took great pride in. Though Luna huffed at the interruption, she too offered her sister a small smile... evidence of how much had changed since her return. "We're summoning it here though?" Twilight asked as she turned to join Celestia and Luna upon a softly glowing spell circle on the floor. "Of course. It would be inequine to let the poor thing suffer when it is so clearly in pain and we have the means to help it." Celestia smiled softly as her magic began to channel that of her sister and former student. After a moment her horn dimmed and she looked to the other two, "Are you ready?" Without hesitation, both Luna and Twilight nodded before all three princesses vanished with a golden flash and a soft pop. -~oOo~- There had been a third voice, she was certain of it. It had been younger, lighter, and somehow curious. It had seemed the voice of a child, full of boundless trust and endless hope. It had been like a breath of fresh air in lungs that hadn't tasted such a thing in years. It had been a third voice. There had been three voices. She was sure of it. It couldn't be her imagination. It certainly wasn't the Light... her time in Shattrath had given her ample opportunity to be witness to the beings that brought the Light. A'dal had been seared into her mind since the very first moment she had seen it.... him.... and she instinctively thought of him whenever she heard their voices. A'dal was one of the Naaru and stood apart from any being she had seen before or since. A'dal, and indeed any of the Naaru she had seen, was a being of crystalline light at least three times her height, that constantly floated and spun in the air. With a voice like the tinkling of tiny bells, and the gleaming clarity of the light he gave off, A'dal was nothing less than the iconic image of love and mercy. Being in his presence was like bathing oneself in the tender affections of a forgotten mother. To hear his voice was to know the hymns of angels that so many churches preached the existence of. These voices were not like A'dal. They were not from the Light, but neither did they sound as the titans or any of the Olde Gods she had been unlucky enough to stumble across. THOSE voices never truly slept and they certainly didn't sound curious or concerned. She remembered her last foray into the Maw of Madness, the festering pit of teeth and bile that had opened up in the Twilight Highlands. She clearly recalled the tentacles that snaked along the ground, grasping and violating anything they touched while whispers invaded the minds of every creature near enough to sense the being that had slumbered below. The living flesh that oozed and throbbed, vile fluids eating the bodies of enemy and ally alike, and the putrid air that invaded their lungs and prevented simply flying away... all the horrors and violations of that thing had flooded her with a vicious hatred of any such touch. Only her faith in the Light and the undying will of the Forsaken had given her purpose enough to cast off its shackles and strike back at the seething infection with the handful of heroes who had braved it with her. In moments like those, alliances meant nothing. Orc and Dwarf had thrown aside differences while Human and Troll had defended one another as brethren. Her own people, the Forsaken, had shouldered their own grievances and cast their lot with life... something that they were intimately at odds with. And, in the end, while even the monolithic figures of their peoples stood at sword points, they had banded together to strike down the madness of that which would consume them. No... those voices were not the Olde Gods, but neither were they heroes or legends with which she could draw parallels. They were something else entirely. They were something new. They had to be, because out in the endless cold, she continued to tumble alone.