"Consider it a favor to Meo."
Sometimes Ogden was glad he did not have a lower jaw; it made things like frowns much easier to conceal. "Of course, Meo; Im sorry I've caused this trouble."
Which is true; Ogden never meant to cause trouble; never amongst the Tears or his friends anyway. He would cause trouble where it needed to be caused; sometimes that was the only way folk would stop to listen.
But Meo wasn't speaking of that, he was speaking of the way Ogden was teasing Lenora; apparently it was doing more hurt than good. Lenora was such a tormented soul; Ogden could see her deep inside, wailing to be set free but refusing all manner of assistance to be. He had taken it upon himself to try and bring her from it by teasing her and forcing her to engage on a level that was more than instinctive, to make her think and respond -- even if that response was in defense of herself. But again -- once again! -- he had been asked to leave things be.
"If there is anything I can to do help, Meo," Ogden offered, already knowing the answer, "please do not hesitate to enlist my aide." It was rather like &@$%&#$@%ion; always going through the motions but always doing it alone. Ogden would offer to help and it would fall on deaf ears; just like all his warnings about the Burning Legion. He would go through the motions anyway and make them say no; which Meo did, just like all the rest.
Ogden nodded and bowed in respect to an elder in the Tears and took his leave. The place where the Tears held their weekly meet was that week at a little used shanty near the water's edge. There was a pier of sorts with large pillars driven into the seabed with solid planks forming the platform. Ogden climbed to the top of one of the pillars and stood with his back to the shore and other Tears, and lost himself in the silent oblivion of the sea.
The Horde -- they had dismissed him; they overlooked him; they mocked him; they didn't heed his warnings for the Burning Legion -- more to the point didn't want his warnings; and Ogden was left bereft; alone; forsaken.
There is the Alliance.
The thought echoed in his mind; it echoed like the thing it was -- the very last choice on a short list of options.
There was a Paladin named Aeryck; one that did not strike him down as soon as he was met in the fields; one that did not seem to carry so much disdain for him as even Ogden's own folk of the Horde. A chance meeting in Booty Bay with a Goblin translator between them had proved Ogden correct; Aeryck was a decent fellow, honorable if not made honorable by a depraved past, and seemed very interested in what Ogden had to say. That conversation was more respectful than Ogden had ever received from his fellow Horde.
So be it.
Standing there on that pillar wrapped in the silence of death, Ogden felt the shift of intentions in his heart; since the Horde would not listen, maybe the Alliance would. He would start with this Aeryck and perhaps his guildmistress Kira Adamma. Ogden had crashed the Silver Dawn anniversary celebration several weeks prior; he had discovered its time and location from a flyer posted in Booty Bay. A couple of coins to the right Goblin and Ogden was on his way. It was there he saw Aeryck for the second time and determined that the female Human who did most of the speaking was Kira Adamma; the same who signed the posted flyer.
He could not do this thing while wearing the Tears of Draenor tabard; oh, he would still be a member of the clan, but he would not wear the mark for fear of marring their name and bringing retribution meant for himself upon their shoulders. Slowly, he removed it from his chest, taking his crochet hat in one hand so he could lift the tabard over his head with the other. Replacing the hat upon his head he focused on the tabard and invoked a spell of fiery immolation. As his tabard burned, he released it to the small sea breeze; it was ash before it hit the water. Setting his hat lower on his brow, Ogden turned and looked over the Tears perhaps for the final time; there was no way to know if the Alliance would welcome him -- or kill him. The Tears were celebrating and enjoying each other's company, little noticing or missing him from their revelry; this was not their fault of course; it just was the way of it.
He would miss them.
Looking out again over the water he invoked his hearthstone, directing it to transport him to Booty Bay. Perhaps from there he could hire a Goblin to get word to Aeryck, or Kira Adamma. Perhaps from there he would find nothing but his death.
It was a small matter.
Sullindill leaned back against the wall, watching. Her family- the Tears- all gathered in one place. That is something that doesn't happen frequently enough, she shook her head and sighed. Well, almost everyone is here.. Mulk was on his way, he had been helping a young friend in Ashenvale.
Twirling a braid, she scans the room. Listening and feeling, she watches the hearts of those around her. Not being one to participate often in the jokes and discussions, she can sit unnoticed. Each heart, each soul a precious thing to her, she listens, and watches for ways to ease sorrows and hurts. If theyd listen, that is.
A conversation across the room catches her eye. Two souls so dear to her- Meo Ghatte and Ogden- her father and her brother- are speaking closely. She recognizes the stern look on Meo's face- commanding and protecting. Great, Ogden's in trouble again. It seems a fairly small matter, but Ogden's posture speaks of more. He is slumped over more than usual, his head hung, and a look of defeat in his eyes. Frowning, she slips into cat form to better hear.
It does seem to just be another discussion about Ogden's baiting of Lenora, but something deeper is going on in Ogden's heart. Lindi can feel it. Sighing and shaking out her mane, she watches as Ogden leaves, tears coming to her eyes. Looking to her father, she sees Meo turn away, a bit concerned by Ogden's reaction, but he is quickly pulled into another discussion.
Silently, she prowls out of the building to follow Ogden. She sees him standing alone on the pier. His thoughts obviously far away, Lindi hesitates a moment before heading to the shoreline. No, I cannot leave him alone. He needs a friend- and so do I. It does not surprise her to see his tabard gone, she knows he removes it when going on some of his odd ventures. So as not to bring dishonor.. she smiles faintly.
She remains as quiet as she can, not wanting to startle him. As she gets closer, she shifts back to her Shu'halo form, and reaches out a comforting hand- just as he disappears- pulled away by his hearthstone.
Sighing deeply, Lindi sits down on the pier, her hooves dangling above the water. For a long while, she just watches the waves. Seeing her bag to her side, she rummages through it for parchment and something to write with. Tears still filling her eyes, she begins to write.
My dearest brother,
I know you have a great many things weighing on your heart. Some of which I know and understand, and others which I cannot begin to fathom. There are so many dark things in the world, and I know of your desire to warn others. It is part of the kinship we share- wanting to warn-to help- and not being heard or taken seriously.
I know you well enough to know you will put yourself in danger- and try to keep everyone else far away. You know me well enough to know I will not leave it be. I may not have the strength or experience of others, but I too have that desire to help.
Let me help. It is my biggest source of frustration when I see someone hurting and they will not let me help. You know this. Let me help you. As you travel, let me come along sometimes, if for nothing else than quiet encouragement. That seems to be my specialty- to just be there. But if that is all that is needed, it is what I will do.
Do not remain silent. I am lonely enough as it is. Do not tear another loved one away from me. You are dear to me, brother. Your heart cries out, and I hear it, just as you hear my soul.
Carefully, Lindi folded the letter, and addressed it. Sighing, she became aware of a presence nearby and heard a deep, rumbling purr. Mulkanus had come. Lindi threw her arms around the cat's neck, breathing deeply of her husband's scent, drawing strength from him. Mulk looked at her, a bit puzzled, but still purring. Slowly, softly, she unfolded the tale for him- all that she had seen, heard, and felt.
They sat there on the pier a while talking things over before rejoining the gathered Tears. The letter went out in the mornings post.
--Lilithia 12:59, 12 December 2006 (GMT)