Zaravala Nightcaller

Lost Cause

Surprising silence drifted across landscape, broken only by Zaravala's gear shifting as she padded towards the water edge around the outer wall of of the crumbling city. Easing her way down the bank, the woman paused a moment to remove the gloves from her hands, slipping them through her belt to hold them against her. Lowering herself to the stony damp ground, glancing around the clearing and sure she was alone she slipped the mask off and rested it on her knee.

Zaravala reached forward and stuck her hands in the cool water bringing her damp palms to pat her warm cheeks, careful to avoid her own reflection. 

The Demon Hunter slipped a hand into her pouch and pulled another envelope from its depths, still sealed, her brother's scrawling handwriting across the front. The sight of her name in his cursive, uncomfortable to see.

Wedging her finger between the flap of the envelope she popped the wax seal and retrieved the parchment within.

Zaravala,

I know I have no right to expect a response, in fact I hadn't expected one at all. Knowing you are alive brings great relief.  

I'll ignore the rest of the bullshit for the time being as I know I deserve it all. I'm writing back as a warning.  If our blades clash outside of Lordaeron, you will live. Just make sure I see it coming.

Dizarak

The crimson haired woman reread the letter, her eyes focusing on the Last two lines. He was being sent to the fight, the same field full of bloodshed and anguish as she. 

He was asking, no....TELLING her to end him if they met. Telling her he wanted to see her do it.

For years, she joked about wanting the chance to show him the pain he had caused her. Give him even a small taste of the worthless feelings she had drowned in for centuries after their last moments together.

Gripping it tightly in one hand partially creasing it she slipped her mask back on and trudged her way back to the sleeping quarters.

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