She found him deep under the Warden’s Cage. He stood in his ancient garb, greatly changed and obviously much older to her eyes. The weight of the entire world falling on him had broken him more than the fel energies…she could see the ravages of the soul etched upon his face. Yes he had made bad decisions, for all the right reasons…but they were still wrong. She knew he knew that. She knew he accepted his own damnation, but the question would have to yet be asked.
“Why?” she asked looking into his eyes. The eyes were unchanged, still the eyes of her father, they still carried a great love for her. “Ataracia,” he whispered, almost like a sigh, like one might whisper the word water in the midst of a desert. He paused, simply looking at her, simply registering the fact of her presence. “I always hoped you would come back to see me. I have not interfered in your life, feeling that it would be undesirable for you. I have kept up with your career and your deeds through various means,” said Akama. “Of late I have spoken to your friend the druid. He and others under your command helped me greatly in defying Illidan. In fact I could not have done it without them. I suppose I have you to thank for that?” he said still taking in that she was really there. “Not really, they volunteered, and I allowed it because Orious and others were persuasive and felt that it was a chance to remove the demon once and for all…that is why I let them come, that they might do their hearts leading, and avenge my mother and the Shadowmoon at the same time. Any help they rendered to you was purely incidental to me.” Her eyes flashed when she said this and her small fanged incisors grew visibly. The Eredar have motile incisors. They have become almost vestigial in most, but Ataracia retained that ancient racial ability and it was like watching a vampire vamp out…her fangs were not long, but they would come out a bit when she felt very angry. Orious and Ass always said it was hot…which would make her laugh and they would retract again.
This time they did not retract, and this was not unnoticed by her father. “Child,” he began “I deserve your anger; perhaps I deserve your hatred as well. I did not visit these things upon this, our second world. I made mistakes, I took a crooked path, always, always incorporating a lesser evil against a greater one, figuring finally I would have an evil ally I could handle, thus Maev…and then destroy them. I am not evil, my dear, dear Ataracia” he said with a heavy heart. “Perhaps not, but you are misguided if you think I have not thought through all of this…no you didn’t bring the evils of the world upon it, but your response was far from pure. A pure heart would never have chosen Illidan as an ally, nor these Deathsworn. What will you do with them now…execute them? They are evil, and yet would you betray them now that they have done your dirty work for you? How many must suffer for your series of poor judgments? How many pawns must you sacrifice upon your chessboard? When do people become flesh and blood to you instead of tools for your political plots? When they are lying on the floor of the Temple of Kerabor bleeding to death…then you notice? How many have you led to their deaths in order to undo the karma of your own misguided mistakes?” she was almost panting from the anger and frustration that had welled up inside her. He had definitely had this coming for all these years. This fact was not lost on her father. He knew this meeting if it ever came would come with a high price for him emotionally. She was right of course. He had made a mess of things, the last purely good thing he had done was taking the children to Shatt. Should he tell her all that befell…did she really need this?
Akama’s chambers were more than Spartan. There was a cot, a chair, and a table, all fairly useless refuse to any Draenei of any stature at all. The room was damp and there were places where the walls were wet with seepage and condensate. Ataracia looked about and was struck to heart…he had lost everything but still he fought. Perhaps she should at least give him the chance to say his peace. “Please be seated child,” said Akama pulling the chair away from the table and gesturing toward it. “I’ll stand, thank you,” she said. “No, you will sit because what I have to say requires that you sit.” This was reminiscent of her father when she was growing up, and without thinking she simply sat. Akama chuckled “I’m sorry, that was perhaps a rude thing to say to you, but you do need to be sitting.” “When I returned home the Horde had raided the temple…Your mother and I fought side by side to defend our people and the remaining students and acolytes in the temple. I have been in many battles before and since, but have never been in one more awful, more bloody, or more heart wrenching than that one. Your mother did survive the battle, but a poisoned arrow loosed as we were feeing the temple pierced her side. I tended her for a month ere she died. When I fled to Shatt, I could not bear to bring you girls that news. I was a coward and thought I would take some time to consider how to let you know. Then I had to return here. While here the fel energies changed my form, but not my heart or my mind.” While he was speaking a young Unbroken girl of about 14 walked into the room and stood quietly. He looked at her and at Ataracia, sighed, and continued. “Your mother was with child when the attack occurred.
We had not announced it to you girls due to the tension and battles taking place. The child was born on your mother’s deathbed, and we cared for it.” “Why did you not bring it to us, where she would have been safe” asked Ataracia still stunned from the revelation. “She was born Unbroken, she was exposed that day to too much fel energy. Your mother lingered nearly a month. We called in every physic we could find but alas, the fel enegy inside her and the child was too much for her along with the poison of the arrow. After returning here I began to change. This was before you and your sisters worked to find a vaccine for the fel energy…but it will only prevent or slow it, it will not undo what has been done. So we remained here, doing what we could to stop Magtheridon and closing the portals that were allowing the reinforcement of Fel Orcs. I did what I did to help Shadowmoon…yes my allies were not the best, but I had no allies upon whom I might call. Your uncle Valen would not have anything to do with me as I was broken…his own brother, so I found allies that would help me save Shadowmoon.” Akama looked at his daughter. She sat in dumb surprise. This was not the story she had heard from Valen, and she had a sister she had never met. “We didn’t create the vaccine, we helped a druid that came and…” she stopped. Suddenly she knew who the druid was…perhaps that is why he had always seemed familiar to her even at their first meeting when she was an adult. Orious had come along with another druid in hopes of finding some way to prevent or retard the changes on the draenei due to these fel energies and help the Unbroken retain their mental acuity.
Her world was breathing now, expanding and contracting all at once. “Yes,” Akama said “It was your druid. He has done what I could not; he has looked after you all these years. He did not know of our relationship until after our assault on Illidan. I am not sure he knew when he left, but I imagine he has pieced it together now. I had nothing to do with your druid. I barely knew him from the routing of the orc menace, though I had seen him and heard of him much thereafter, until he came and began helping me to topple Illidan. You have good people as comrades. The guild you marshal has done great deeds. You are famous for your dedication to duty and your loyalty to your friends. Velen broke his silence some months back. He sent me to one and only missive since my transformation. ‘Your daughter, who was dead, is alive again. The druid rescued her from the dreaming of Draenor. The prototype exists. There is still hope.’ Your druid has had his hands full, and he must care very much for you to have done such a deed. You have selected your friends well, unlike your father.” He said with a downward cast of his eyes.
“Now you need an introduction. Ataracia meet your sister Alakama. Alakama this is one of your sisters, my firstborn, Ataracia. You remember me telling you tales of her crusades, and of the deeds of your other sisters Atalanta (the huntress), Armalla (the priestess), and Astarla (the shaman). They have been busy fighting against the legion and other fel enemies of all our worlds. Give your sister a hug.” The two embraced and Ataracia felt the years of anger and confusion fall into tears and she cried in the way she had not allowed herself to do when her father did not return for her, in the way she had not allowed herself to do when Valen told her that her mother had died. To say that she forgave her father might be too much to say, but her disappointment with him was much lessened and her understanding of his situation much improved. He still had bad taste in allies, but he was right, to whom do you run if none who claim they love you will receive you?
Ataracia dried her eyes and looked at her sister. Some resemblance of herself and her sisters was evident, certainly in the eyes, and the child had a bright smile. She looked at her father and shook her head, “I don’t know if all that you have said removes the stains of the past or simply shuffles where they appear. I cannot hold you entirely blameless, your methods are questionable at best and you play people to your own ends without being fully honest with any of them. This I find reprehensible, regardless of your goals. One thing remains…Alakama should come with me to Dalaran. I will enroll her in school and find where she excels. She should be around good people, not your Deathsworn.”
Akama looked at her calmly and said “She should not go Ataracia, her mind is like yours or your sisters. The fel magics injured her before birth…she is a child and shall ever be.” As he spoke those words his voice shook and he turned away, his shoulders shook for a moment and then he said in a clear voice “You and your sisters may come and visit her if you so desire. I’m sure Alakama would love the company of her sisters. I can be available, or I can conveniently be absent.” He did not turn around. A part of Love wanted to go and hug the old man but the largest part of her was still confused and though much of the anger had left her, she was not entirely sure that was a good thing. Instead she hugged her little sister and put her hand on his shoulder. His hand found hers there and she said “Perhaps we should talk again.” Akama said “I would like that, if it seems good to you. I have more I would speak to you about, but perhaps we have both endured enough for one day.”
Ataracia walked out of the room, up the stairs, and found Brian and Assassen ass-deep in demons. She looked at them, shook her head, but could not laugh, lest she cry. So she mounted up and flew away to the north west and Shattrath. “What did we do?” asked Assassen. “Nothing buddy. She isn’t upset at us; she is reacting to whatever meeting she had.” Said Brianthad. “If anyone said anything to…” started Assassen. Alakama came to the upper door. Brian looked at her and then at Assassen and said “I think we leave this one be.” He smiled at the little girl and she smiled back and skipped downstairs.
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