(Un)breakable

A Story by Seratha

The rise of the Twilight Ascendant Council. (World of Warcraft)

Before becoming a member of the infamous Twilight Ascendant Council, Terran was an exceptionally gifted adept. She, along with her friends, resided as students in the Hammer’s foreboding citadel, the Bastion of Twilight. In the events leading up to her ascension, she will be forced to contend with powers developing out of her control, while being faced with an uncertain future that is haunted by her dark and tortured past.

(Un)breakable

Terran brushed the coarse earth of the Bastion's arena with slender, light-skinned fingers. She was kneeling, her fel-tinged eyes hazily examining the purplish-brown hue of ground before her. Rolling a clod of dirt between her thumb and index finger, she breathed in deeply; the air stung with the stench of blood and sweat, with a hint of smoldering embers from the many torches that lined the citadel's walls. Ignoring the burning sensation filling her nostrils, she breathed in again, this time focusing on the natural energies surrounding her. She continued rolling the small clod of dirt between her fingers before finally crushing it, allowing the dust to sprinkle past her palm and return to the earth below.

"Weak..." she mumbled lifelessly under her breath, not taking her eyes off her dirt stained hand.

"Like you..." echoed a voice in the back of her mind. The voice was not unlike her own, but it was darker. A harsh and unforgiving tone, its very presence began to claw its way out of the farthest reaches of her subconscious.

"Yes..." breathed Terran complacently. She did not question or retaliate the remark. Rather, she embraced it, allowing the voice's presence to overtake her.

She could feel control over her body fade away as she allowed the darkness to surge forth from the deepest recessions of her mind. The Blood Elf was accustomed to this feeling: a feeling of being only partially inside her own body. Closing her eyes, she got to her feet. Her limbs seemed distant, but not entirely out of her control. It was as if a second force was helping guide her movements as she blindly tightened the white, dirt stained bandages wrapped around her hands. The force itself was powerful and menacing, but it was her guardian, her protector.

Exhaling calmly at the thought, Terran relaxed her elbows at her sides, bringing her hands before her, palm up, near chest level, as if waiting for something to drop off the citadel's ceiling for her to catch. With each measured breath she could feel the rush of energy flow into her body from the earth itself, starting from the heels of her boots, resounding throughout her entire form, to the tips of her fingers. The earth reverberated, answering the Blood Elf's silent call with the motions of the nearly hundred failed recruits waiting across the arena.
The anxious shuffling of feet, the grinding hum of an ill-tempered sword being removed from its sheath and the impatient stomping of sabatons reverberated into the ground; the hurried mutterings of various incantations, the creak of battle-weary bones, the surge of adrenaline filled blood, the heightened heartbeat of anticipation. Terran could feel even the slightest movement echo through the earth, creating a blueprint of each of her many combatants in her mind. The hopeful recruits looked up to the arena's outer ring, where crowds of instructors and their students huddled at the very edge, cheering and jeering for the upcoming bloodbath.

Exerting a commanding presence over her students, Instructor Mylva conjured a crackle of flame in her palm, ready to release it as the signal to begin the battle when the time was right. Her dark eyes gazed upon the motionless Terran with a mixture of anticipation and satisfaction. A few feet from the Human stood the Draenei, Felicia Al'onaar, whose opalescent eyes darted back and forth between the bloodthirsty horde of recruits and the stoic figure of the Blood Elf that faced them.

"Terran..." she whispered worriedly under her breath.

Beside her was the Forsaken, Alexander Malius. Arms crossed, Alexander's lightning-blue eyes peered out from beneath a shawl that covered his head and decaying features, calmly examining the scene before him. Impatiently howling and barking next to him was Edmund Igmius, gleefully joining in with the other students' cries to begin the match. The Worgen dug his claws into the banister, leaning over the edge and eyeing the arena's combatants maniacally with crimson eyes.

Disgruntled, Instructor Mylva scoffed at the spectators' impatience, but proceeded to release her flare into the air above the arena. The horde sprang to life at the signal, drowning out the flares' crackles with the thunderous echo of their boots against the arena's rocky floor. Though the mass of zealous recruits came as defectors from both the Horde and the Alliance, their cries for battle now came in unison. Beseeching the Master for strength and rallying in glory for the Twilight's Hammer, they surged forth as one entity against their lone opponent.

Terran breathed lightly, blocking out the uproar of the arena spectators and focusing her energies on the ravenous crowd approaching her. Their movements swept through the earth, allowing the adept to tap into her natural element. Her eyes still closed, she swept her right hand to the side in an almost absent-minded motion. The reaction was instantaneous; the ground rumbled in response to her silent incantation, unearthing an enormous slab of stone that proceeded to collapse on the right flank of the oncoming recruits, crushing dozens underneath it and scattering others as they tried to avoid it. Not pausing to see the dust settle, Terran pushed forward with her left hand, breaking the ground beneath a group of recruits who stopped to cast their rudimentary spells. Tripping over the uneven footing, their spells misfired in every direction, injuring themselves and others in the main group.

The failed recruits were truly of one mind: the single minded goal to kill their opponent. Even with the earth itself betraying their advances on either side, the main force continued to blindly rush forward. Through their zeal they ignored the fates of their recently crushed comrades, and the terrible power of the woman they were so hellbent on slaughtering. Terran could feel it. She could sense their hearts pumping blood to their legs, to close the gap between her and their swords, and the blood rushing to their hands, crudely weaving spells to be cast. Soon those hearts would stop. She turned her palms over to face the ground, extending her arms before her and keeping her elbows slightly bent to ready her next spell.

Terran finally opened her eyes, unnecessary as it was, to the sight of still some seventy hopeful cultists madly charging at her. Her bright green eyes, tainted by the presence of fel magic, had been replaced by a fiercely luminescent yellow hue, signifying her complete connection to the forces of earth around her. The Blood Elf began raising her arms in small, rigid motions in the direction of her arena combatants. Each movement sent a rippling wave of force toward the recruits, creating cascading waves of earth and stone to bury any foolish enough to remain in its path. She felt the vibrations of thousands of bones being crushed flow back to her. Skulls, limbs, spines, rib cages- all were shattered and broken underneath her merciless earth.
The somewhat less mindless individuals of the horde had managed to avoid her crushing waves by flanking to either side of the Blood Elf. They began racing to her visual blind spots, most likely hoping that a simultaneous attack from both sides would leave her vulnerable. While such coordination from the blundering recruits was a stretch of the imagination, it was still a plausible outcome. Regardless, Terran paid them no mind for the time being; she could track their movements effortlessly enough, and she wanted to focus her attention on the few remaining survivors of her landslides.

Dull heartbeats and shallow breathing whispered through the rubble before her. It seems the hard headedness of many of the cultists allowed them to survive the repeated battering of rock and stone. Unfortunately for them, flesh was not nearly as resilient. Terran clenched her outstretched palms, a single word of power flew through her mind, causing dozens of jagged faults to erupt from the base of her feet, sprawling forward in a frenzy to reach their targets. The lines hit their targets in quick succession. One after another, enormous stalagmites erupted through the rubble, covered in the glistening blood of their victims. The recently impaled corpses hung limply by their chests, allowing blood to lazily trickle down the rock formations and seep into the earth.

Terran stopped for a moment as the earth echoed the sensation of soft flesh being punctured by stone, and the sputtering heartbeats that stopped soon after. A lingering feeling ticked at the back of her mind before she turned to the next group of unfortunate recruits. Hesitation? She couldn't tell. Attempting to brush it from her thoughts, Terran swept her leg in an arcing motion across the ground, unearthing several stone slabs ready to be launched. She could not afford to be distracted.

However, the arena spectators had gone into a frenzy at the sight of fresh blood, making it much more difficult for her to concentrate. The rising body count was like a trigger for the already bloodthirsty cultists as they began screaming and chanting for more. Various instructors pacified the more zealous students who were trying to leap over the banister and into the fray below. Mylva sent a heel into the ribs of an overeager Dwarf, who was attempting to heave himself over the edge. The Instructor eyed the only pair of students not joining in on the rabble. Suppressing a malicious grin, she turned back to her other students and the ongoing battle below.

Unlike his two companions, Edmund joined his fellow classmates with his own level of unrestrained fervor. “Yes! Yes!” he howled enthusiastically as Terran used her stone slabs to bash the heads of several more recruits into unrecognizable bloody pulps, “That's the Terran I like to see!”

“Down, boy,” Alexander said dryly, slowly inching away from the overexcited Worgen. The Forsaken rolled his eyes as Edmund began drooling in between barks and spurts of flame before glancing over to Felicia, whose already light blue knuckles were white from gripping the banister so tightly. She hadn't said a word since the match started, but her bright eyes remained fixated on Terran.

“Fear...” mumbled Terran, raising an earthen wall on her right side with a rigid motion of her arm. She allowed the massive slab of earth to intercept several spells and throwing knives before returning fire with a forceful thrust of her hand. Fear of what?

“Pain,” said the shadowy voice simply.

The earthen slab crushed two recruits between itself and the rocky wall of the arena. The echo of thousands of individual bones being shattered resonated through the earth and into Terran. She froze momentarily and shuddered; the sensations were becoming stronger and more real. They were too familiar. Shaking it off, the adept stomped her left heel in the direction of several more spellcasters. After a foreboding rumble of earth, stalagmites impaled each of them before they had a chance to react.

Blood rushing to an open wound. The last desperate gasps for life. Terran halted again, unable to stop the earth's response from her most recent victims. Shivering, she grasped her arms tightly and retreated into herself. The breaking of bones, the flowing of blood, the halting heartbeats: the feelings were all too real, as if her own body was being bruised, beaten and impaled each time she did the same. The sensations of pain and death were overwhelming. What she so desperately tried to escape by joining the Hammer was all flowing back into her at that instant.

“I can't-” she muttered weakly, but stopped short. The blueprint had changed. Someone was closing in on her from behind.

Terran snapped back to her senses, not having enough time to wonder how long she had been standing there, or how she had allowed an opponent to reach such a dangerous proximity. She spun around to face her ambusher and swerved to her side, narrowly avoiding a fatal slash to the head. Not quickly enough, however, as the sword's tip gashed her right cheek, creating a thin line of dripping blood.

Wincing, Terran brushed her hand at the gash and stared in horror as her own blood began to dye the dirt-ridden bandages around her palm a deep crimson. The dark presence flared up in anger at the sight and began clawing for more control, harshly reminding her that her blood had not flown so freely since she escaped. Engrossed in her own terror, the Blood Elf was almost unaware that her Orcish attacker, motivated by having drawn blood, was rearing up for another swing.

Obediently warning its master, the earth reverberated the Orc's lunging movement, but Terran, still dazed, could not pull herself to a side quickly enough. The sword plunged itself into her lower left abdomen. Savagely yanking the blade from its wound, the Orc roared triumphantly, praising the Master and raising the bloodied weapon above his head to deliver the finishing blow.

The flooding rush of pain brought Terran back to her senses. “Die,” she croaked through clenched teeth, clutching the open wound with her left hand, and creating a fist with her free palm.

The earth itself seemed to rumble with vengeance as two stalagmites pierced her unsuspecting attacker from both sides, splattering claret fluid in every direction. Still grasping her wound, Terran brushed the Orc's blood from her face. She was doubled over in excruciating pain, her breathing coming in shallow gasps. Blood continued to flow freely from the gaping wound, further darkening her tunic and leggings. And, despite her best efforts, she could not stop the flow of hot tears streaming down her blood stained cheeks. But she was not languishing in the pain; no, through her tears and grimaced expression her lucent yellow eyes betrayed her injuries with the fierce sparks of an unbridled hatred.

Terran's dark guardian had taken over completely. While she felt control of her body begin to rescind, she stumbled forward, still bleeding profusely, to face her remaining attackers. The recruits lucky enough to still be standing launched themselves forward in a frenzy, eager to please the Master with the Blood Elf's head. Terran felt trapped in her own body, surrounded by the haunting presence of the darkness' sadistic fury. Unable to act, she could only watch as her body unleashed a furious barrage of stones and boulders upon a group of recruits, crushing them within seconds.

“Wait...” she said feebly, though the words never reached her lips.

The pain from her wounds was numbing, but with each spell cast the earth responded in kind; she could still feel her enemies' bones being ground to dust and their bodies being torn open by jagged stone. Each successful kill seared through her body like a white hot dagger, as if being stabbed in the stomach was not torturous enough. It needed to be stopped.

“Please...” she silently pleaded again as she felt the wracking pains of a body being gutted by a stone-forged lance. The dark force ignored her, instead brutally impaling three more cultists with a sweep of her leg. Though the sensations were unbearable, Terran began fighting back for control. “Don't-” she managed to spit out.

It was working. Command was returning to her limbs, but the darkness continued to resist. Restrained as she was, Terran managed to forcefully pull back her free arm, which was about to unleash a torrent of earth on one of the few remaining groups of recruits. The dark presence did not yield, using her bloodied left hand to send a wave of stalagmites to impale several more oncoming cultists. The earth continued to resonate the cultists' demise, though Terran was now preoccupied with the pain inside her own head. Her mind felt like it was being split in two from the ongoing mental struggle.

“Stop...” she cried out weakly, clutching her temples and adding streaks of crimson blood to her locks of light-blonde hair. Blind with rage, the darkness relentlessly drove back Terran's advances, and throughout the arena, the once zealous recruits had also stopped dead in their tracks.

The dozen or so survivors began doubling over in pain, grasping their skulls in a manner similar to their Blood Elf adversary. Others collapsed, writhing on the ground and begging in agony for whatever unseen force that was assaulting their minds to cease. The cultists still standing soon sank to their knees, shrieking in torment from the force that was seemingly crushing their skulls in on themselves. Blood seeped from the recruits' eyes, noses and mouths as their torturous chorus overtook the now awestruck arena spectators. Terran begged and pleaded with her dark passenger, adding her own cries of suffering to the unearthly strain that echoed through the Bastion's halls. The pain was unbearable.

“STOP!” she screamed again in anguish, falling to her knees.

Silence followed, save for the sound of multiple bodies hitting the rocky arena floor. The recently terrorized cultists all held the same blank, lifeless expression. Their skulls and brains had been crushed into an unrecognizable swirl of blood, bone and cranial fluid, which began oozing slowly from their overturned ears. Terran collapsed as well, her mind in a dull haze. Whether from the pain, blood loss or from the mental battle, she had no idea, but she was sure she was losing consciousness. She could only recognize the blurry outlines of three familiar figures racing toward her from the opposite end of the arena, before everything went black.

* * *

The overbearing aroma of musty tomes and burning incense invaded Terran's senses. It was pitch black. She struggled to open her eyes before realizing she was blindfolded. Iron chains and shackles clinked above her, but unlike her wrists, her feet were unbound; cautiously, she brushed them against the soft rug beneath her. A cloth wrapped tightly around her mouth muffled her cries for help. She knew where she was, and she knew what was coming. As if on cue, Terran heard a door creak open, followed by the thud of boots against marble flooring. The chilling evening wind bit against her naked body.

“Good evening, little sister,” said the figure in nonchalant Thalassian. Heart racing, Terran's cries died down to a softened whimper. Fear bristled up her spine at the sound of her step-brother's eager voice. Trying to back away, she pulled at her iron shackles until they began cutting into her wrists.

“Now, now,” her step-brother said reassuringly, grabbing her around the waist to stop her movement. She recoiled at the touch, her muted pleading coming out only as dull, gasping breaths. “This is for your own good,” he said firmly, gripping her more tightly.

He pressed a single finger against her bare midriff, causing the area to hiss and sizzle. Terran's body jolted in pain, as if a hot brand was being placed directly on her skin. Tears formed at the edges of her eyes as her step-brother traced his finger along her abdomen, creating a searing scar of burnt flesh. Her gagged cries of agony soon became fatigued groans, while she heard him chuckling softly in perverted pleasure before her. The door creaked open again, and another pair of footsteps, lighter this time, gracefully approached them.

“Ah,” said her step-brother, welcoming the visitor before turning back to Terran. He tapped the area right above her naval three times with his index finger, sending off sparks of flame. “Always remember your place in our family,” he remarked lightheartedly, before thrusting his entire palm into her midriff. Terran writhed in torment as his ignited fingers dug themselves into her skin, while his palm incinerated her naval area to a crisp, dark black. Almost too exhausted to scream, the immense agony dulled her senses.

Her mind was foggy, only able to recognize the pain, the stench of cauterized flesh and the presence of a second figure behind her, who began speaking as her step-brother pulled away, “Allow me, baby sister” The voice belonged to Terran's step-sister, who spoke in an eloquent, sinister tone. Muttering incantations under her breath, she began healing Terran's enormous burn mark. She finished the healing process after a few minutes and wrapped her arms around Terran's waist, “Good as new,” she said sweetly, but the pain persisted. Terran felt something sharp prod against her newly formed skin and glide up her abdomen, past her chest, to her collar bone. She assumed it was a dagger, a favorite of her step-sister's.

“Your skin is really quite lovely,” her step-sister said voraciously, nicking Terran's milky-white neck repeatedly with the dagger's fine, razor sharp edge. “But your voice,” she continued, untying the cloth around Terran's mouth, “is even more beautiful.” The tortured Blood Elf's breathing was slow and shallow; even without the gag, she couldn't muster up enough strength to speak, or to beg.

“Let me hear it...” her step-sister murmured lustfully, bringing the dagger down to Terran's exposed legs.

Terran stifled a cry as her step-sister viciously slashed at her right thigh. Warm blood poured out of the gash, trickling down her bare leg. Tears welled up again underneath her already damp blindfold while her mind reeled from the pain and blood loss. Unsatisfied, her step-sister squeezed more tightly and bit the tip of Terran's long, slender ear playfully.

“Scream,” she whispered with finality, before plunging the dagger into Terran's bloodied thigh.

* * *

Terran awoke with a start, gasping for air as if she had recently recovered from drowning. Given the amount of cold sweat that licked her skin, she may not have been too far off. Her dark passenger coiled itself around her subconscious, ready to emerge at the slightest hint of danger. Meanwhile, she strained to take measure of recent events. The arena. Fear. Pain. Darkness. And then? A dream? No, not a dream. A memory. A haunting remembrance that had twisted itself into a reoccurring nightmare.

The adept calmed down and began to slowly take account of her surroundings. A familiar violet flamed brazier hung from the wall, casting flickering shadows across her bed. Sitting upright, she ran her hand underneath the purple sheets that clung to her still damp skin; she ran her fingers across her thigh. No wound. It was only a dream after all. Pulling back, she noticed new bandages around her palms, as well as a large white wrap around her midriff. Terran then vaguely wondered for a moment why she was only in her undergarments, but instead rubbed her temples in resignation. Trying to make sense of everything was beginning to make her head pound.

The room's door creaked open and Felicia stepped inside, carrying a stack of violet towels. “You're awake,” she said expectantly, smiling softly. Setting down the towels, she sat down next to the Blood Elf and studied her through a furrowed brow. “How are you feeling?” she asked, her luminous eyes boring into Terran's vivid green.

“I-I'm fine,” she replied, diverting her gaze. She wasn't even sure if she was lying or not. Regardless, Felicia seemed unconvinced, but didn't press the matter.

“We need to talk about what happened,” the Draenei said firmly, after conjuring an illuminated globe of water and pressing it to Terran's abdomen. Relief flooded the wound site as she began the healing process.

Terran only nodded apprehensively. She noted Felicia's somewhat irritated, but concerned expression. It was a new, strange feeling to know someone was worried about her. While musing this over, a gust of wind burst through the room, followed by a flash of light and the crack of thunder. Alexander appeared at the foot of the bed, and without hesitation, began his announcement, “Our class-”

“Alex-! What are you-!?” Felicia stammered hotly, interrupting him, “Manners, Alexander! What if Terran had been-” her cheeks flushed as she looked to her patient, who had instinctively brought the covers up to her chin. The Forsaken's beady blue eyes merely blinked beneath his shawl, unfazed by the implications. “Use the door!” she barked, overcoming her speechlessness and thrusting a curved horn in the direction of the door behind him.

“My apologies,” he said curtly, dipping into an overly gracious bow, “I'm afraid I left my manners at the grave.”

“Then it will be my pleasure to help you retrieve them,” Felicia replied icily, returning to Terran's wounds underneath the bed sheets. “Well?” she continued impatiently, “What do you want?”

“Our class's session with Master Klem is about to begin. We are to report to the sparring ring, and Edmund is waiting for us outside,” he said, absent-mindedly motioning to the door.

“And Terran? In this condition?” she asked incredulously.

Alexander raised a gloved, boney hand to calm her, “Terran is having a private session with Instructor Earthgear.”

Felicia opened her mouth to protest again, but stopped short as a furry snout poked through the doorway, “Oi, hurry up you-” Edmund’s impatient growl quickly turned into yelping and colorful swearing as he retreated back into the hall, having narrowly avoided being skewered by a deadly barrage of icicles Felicia had launched at the doorway. The icy bolts shattered into the wooden door, nearly knocking it off its hinges.

“Knock!” roared Felicia, forming a waterbolt to be fired if anyone else was foolish enough to try and enter the room unannounced.

“You didn't!” Edmund bellowed from the other side of the now destroyed entrance.

“Because I'm a woman!”

Edmund began refuting this statement quite furiously from outside the room. Alexander only sighed and nodded to Terran before disappearing in another gust of wind. She could hear Edmund begin muttering, or perhaps complaining, to Alexander in the hallway. Felicia turned back to her, smiling reassuringly. Terran marveled at how her personality could be like a calm, soothing stream one moment, and an icy, merciless blizzard the next.
Taking a black band of cloth, Felicia tied up Terran's light-blonde hair into its usual pony tail, using clips to pin a few locks to angle her features, and sweeping her bangs to the side with a stroke of her hand. She brought her hand down to cup the Blood Elf's chin, tracing a slender thumb along her cheek, where she had been cut earlier that day. There was no scar; the skin was once again an unblemished creamy-white. Felicia's own expression had resumed its tender irritability.

“Be careful,” she murmured. It was more of a command than a request. Terran returned her companion's previous reassuring smile as the darkness continued to gnaw at the back of her mind.

* * *

Loch Verrall's once pristine waters were now tainted from the Twilight Hammer's presence, but Terran could still clearly make out her reflection in them. She held the hem of her tunic to chest level in order to examine her recently healed abdomen; there wasn't the slightest hint that she had been brutally stabbed there earlier that morning. Dropping her tunic back down, she realized that not a single scar, cut or bruise remained on her. A true testament to her step-sister's, and Felicia's, healing abilities. Flawless and milky-white, her skin was just an illusion that masked her tortured past.

“Like a doll's...” she muttered bitterly. Yes, a doll. A toy. Something to be played with. Something to be bruised, battered and beaten, only to be repaired to usable condition so it can be thoroughly abused yet again. The dark presence flickered. Terran thought of Felicia, Edmund and Alexander. Did they feel the same way? Was she just another doll to them? Helpless and vulnerable?

“Aren't you?”, whispered her dark passenger haughtily.

Terran clenched her fists, grimacing at her unwavering reflection. It was right. She couldn't even muster up enough anger to retaliate the notion. She was just another toy, waiting to be broken.

“Adept! Stance!” a grating, aging voice snapped at her from behind.

Terran jumped at Instructor Earthgear's command, but hastily straightened her stature and brought her hands before her, palms up. She had been so engrossed in her thoughts, she had nearly forgotten why was there in the first place.

“Eyes,” growled the diminutive Instructor, who had hobbled over to the water's edge, studying his student's reflection. The elderly Goblin was hunched over, wrinkles stretched across his visage where a thin layer of dirt and dust found its resting place.

“S-Sorry...” mumbled Terran, shutting her eyes immediately. Her sight had been blocked off, but the earth granted her a sweeping vision of her surroundings, including the limping shuffle of her teacher toward a nearby rock.

“Results, Blood Elf! I don't need your frivolous apologies, I need results!” barked Earthgear. He groaned as he took a seat, continuing in a slightly less agitated tone, “We need to prepare you. Draw back your power. Concentrate it on yourself.”

Terran hesitantly obeyed and cut herself off from the earth's natural energies so she could only feel her own presence. Fear rippled through her body. It was like being blindfolded.

“Focus on the end of the arena match, how you felt and the energy that coursed through you during that time. It is crucial! Crucial to duplicating that power...”

Instructor Earthgear rambled on about “preparedness” and “candidacy”, but Terran was only dimly paying attention. Details of the arena match streamed into her thoughts, blocking out everything else. Biting her lip, she felt her body tense up as the imagery became more clear.

Her dark passenger shifted again, crawling out of her subconscious. “Good,” it purred, “feel it...”

“I don't want to remember any of this, ”said Terran indignantly, though the words never reached her lips. Her meditative stance was meant to be relaxed and composed, but it was slowly being corroded away by her declining emotional state.

“Would you prefer this instead?” the darkness flashed images of Terran's step-siblings before her eyes. Their greedy, malicious faces. The repeated, unending torment. The bonds, chains, knives and blood. Everything poured into her consciousness.

“No!” she cried inaudibly, “No, please, no more...” Her once steady breathing was now quick and shallow; her heartbeat followed suit.

Instructor Earthgear had gone strangely silent, but Terran hardly noticed as the darkness pressed further, “All pain is the same. You created me to protect you from it.”

Knees shaking, Terran wondered why her dark guardian was unable to block the after effects of her elemental magic during the arena match. She had noticed the earth’s reverberations from using her powers ever since she began honing her skills under the tutelage of Instructor Earthgear, but now the responses were more powerful, and more real, than ever.

“I can no longer shield you from everything,” it answered, reading her thoughts, “Which is why you must kill them, before they kill you.”

“Them...?”

“Anyone. Everyone.”

“Every-!? But...” Killing others to save herself, only to have the earth echo the agony throughout her own body? The sheer thought overwhelmed her. Suffering to avoid death, was there a life in that?

“It's you or them! You cannot have both!” the darkness snarled impatiently, “Or do you wish continue living as a lifeless plaything, awaiting torture at your masters' whims?”

“No-” Terran pleaded silently. The darkness' harsh tone stunned her, but its words rang true. “I don't want...”

“Then kill them.”

“There has to be some other-”

“Bury them.”

“But, I can't-”

“Crush them.”

Terran's protests had been reduced to a muted whimper. She could not deny the dark force's words, but she couldn't accept them either. Had she come all this way, after years of being tortured to an inch of her life, to relive that pain with each of her victims? Or had she come here just to die, to be released from all of life's torment?

“BREAK THEM.” Her dark guardian's voice thundered across her mind, shattering whatever notions of rationale she had left.

“Break...” the single word escaped Terran's lips in a whisper.

Her skills as an earth adept were formidable, but without her magic, she was helpless. If she relinquished her powers, her next fight would surely be her last. If she continued, the nightmares of her past would never be far behind. Was it all really so black and white? She did not have an answer to that question, but she felt strangely at ease for the first time since the arena battle. The darkness seemed to have subsided as well.

A dull thud behind her brought her out of her momentary trance of relaxation. Terran opened her eyes, which gradually began fading back to their natural emerald hue, and was surprised to find herself on the ground with her legs tucked in on either side. She whipped her head around to the source of the noise, to see Instructor Earthgear collapsed in a heap on the floor.

“Instruc-?” the color immediately drained from Terran's face. A familiar brownish-red liquid slowly dripped from the Goblin's ears. Scrambling to her feet, the horrified adept dared to inch closer to her instructor’s body. The sight was nauseating; blood leaked from his eyes and mouth, while the head itself looked rubbery and deflated.

“Y-You did this...” said Terran weakly, holding a hand over her mouth to keep from vomiting.

The darkness unfurled itself over her consciousness, “Me? This was your doing.” There was a tinge of satisfaction in its voice, “This was your release. Relish it.”

“Not like this...” she croaked, turning away from the disfigured corpse.

“Oh? What happened to that sense of bliss you felt only moments ago?”

“That’s not- You forced me to do this!” she retorted hotly, no longer bothering to confine her words to only her thoughts.

A frighteningly hollow cackle echoed through Terran’s mind, making her skin crawl. “Forced you?” the darkness asked bemusedly. “You enjoyed this. This, and every kill before it. You have ached for every opportunity to spill more blood, just like your beloved step-siblings...”

“You’re wrong!” she screamed indignantly, “I am nothing like them! You have no idea the pain-!”

“No?” it interrupted agitatedly, “Who, then, has protected you for all these years? Pain is life. Only with power can you overcome it. Even before you created me you clung to your miserable soul, knowing that torment would be your only future. Chained in your own blood and agony you waited, hoping for the strength to exact your revenge.”

Terran sank to her knees, her head pounding from the darkness’ vilifying words.

“And now, after gaining power to rival entire armies, you choose to submit?”

“Then...” she gritted her teeth helplessly, grinding her palms into the dirt, “...What should I do?”

Her dark guardian resumed its calm demeanor, “Continue as you always have, with me by your side. You are not alone. Together, we will look suffering in the eyes and deny him his pleasure.”

Not alone? No, for as long as her memories remained she would never truly be alone. She would always be haunted by her torturous past. But, the darkness was right; despite the fear of being broken and abused, she needed to press forward. She glanced back to Earthgear’s motionless body behind her. Unfortunately, her future was looking bleak. How would she explain this? That a dark voice inside her head compelled her to subconsciously kill her own teacher? No one would believe that, not even her friends. She hardly believed it herself.

“Terran!” a familiar voice rang out ahead. The adept looked up to see Felicia, Edmund and Alexander running toward her, having probably noticed Earthgear’s body lying nearby. Edmund reached her first, letting out a low whistle at the state of the corpse. Alexander kneeled to inspect the body and Felicia crouched down to Terran’s eye level to examine her condition. “Are you all right? What happened?” she asked firmly, cupping the Blood Elf’s cheeks in her hands.

Edmund also turned to her, his leathery ears twitching, “Were you speaking to someone just now?”

“N-No, n-not really...” she replied sheepishly, looking away from the Worgen’s doubtful expression. “And I-I’m fine. I don’t know how to explain...” she said to Felicia, also not wanting to meet her gaze.

“Don’t worry, Terran, everything is going to be fine,” said Felicia assuredly.

“You four!” bellowed Instructor Mylva from atop an overlooking ridge, “Come with me.” Her stern expression flickered for a moment, but without looking back she stepped toward the Bastion's nearby entrance.

Dread swelled up again in the pit of Terran's stomach. How long had Instructor Mylva been standing there? Had she seen everything? She was sure to be punished, but now she had gotten her friends involved too.

Reading Terran's terrified expression, Alexander offered her a hand, “This burden is not yours to bear alone.”

Terran took it appreciatively and got to her feet, looking to her companions. They were all surprisingly at ease, given the circumstances. Even Edmund wore a toothy, reassuring grin and motioned for them to follow the Instructor inside.Alexander set into a brisk pace, but Felicia held back, noticing Terran's still apprehensive expression.

She took the Blood Elf's hand in hers, gripping it softly. “We're in this together,” she said, her luminous eyes beaming with warmth.

The pair walked together through the Bastion's dimly lit halls. Instructor Mylva’s flowing robes willowed across the ground ahead of them, with Edmund and Alexander in tow. The group turned into dark, twisting hallway. Terran had never been in this part of the citadel before, but Felicia's words echoed in her thoughts, distracting her from the unfamiliar surroundings. Together. She remembered the darkness' offer to continue fighting alongside her, to face the trials that undoubtedly lay before them. The notion was comforting. Was this what it meant to be a part of a real family? To be with those closest to you, until the very end?

And the end was coming. Terran could sense it. At the end of the hallway, their fate would be decided.

* * *

The hall opened into a magnificent sanctum. Two balconies on either side of the far wall hung above a slightly elevated stage. At the foot of the steps were four enormous, intricately designed rune circles, each adorned with hulking crystals chained around the edge. Accompanying each rune were six hooded cultists, kneeling toward the center of the circle and chanting incantations in unison.

“This is the end,” said Instructor Mylva finally, turning to face them and raising her voice above the ominous chorus, “of your current lives. Starting here, you begin anew.” The instructor met the group's puzzled expressions with a knowing smirk, motioning to the runes behind her, “You four will be ascended!” Mylva's dark, sullen eyes brimmed with excitement. “Master Cho'gall himself has chosen the four of you among the rest of your classmates not only for your exceptional skills as adepts,” she continued, her eyes drifting to Terran, “but also for the unique solidarity you have all shown since arriving in the Highlands.” She flashed a look of mild disdain at her final words before turning back to the kneeling cultists expectantly.

“Wait, Instructor,” called out Felicia, “I still don't quite understand. What is-”

The thundering crash of the sanctum's doors being slammed open drowned out Felicia's question. From the entrance came the lumbering figure of the Twilight's Hammer's cunning and fervorous leader, Cho'gall. The Ogre magi's malformed body towered above the cultists, his body's ever-watching eyes flickering across the sanctum. Terran shuddered as one of them met her gaze.
Instructor Mylva instantly fell to her knees, and the four adepts motioned to do the same, before being stopped by their leader's words, “Stand, adepts. (Ascendants! They are to be Ascendants!)” Cho smiled wryly to his brother and agreed, “Yes, Ascendants.” He motioned for the four to step forward, “I have observed your progress for some time now. (Like the Master! Ever watching! Never blinking!) Your accomplishments will not go unrewarded.”

“Each of you will be granted ascension from your mortal forms. (Flesh succumbs, chaos is eternal!)” Cho'gall's rumbling voice boomed throughout the sanctum, “You will be given new bodies (Immortal!), new names (Unstoppable!) and new, more terrifying power! (Indestructible!)”

“Unbreakable,” whispered the darkness, shifting inside Terran's consciousness fervidly.

“Together, you will lead as the Twilight Ascendant Council and give rise to a new, more glorious era for the Twilight's Hammer! And with it, herald the imminent apocalypse of Azeroth! (The Master's wishes! We serve Him!)” the magi finished emphatically, holding a misshapen claw to the air in triumph.

Terran was shocked; stunned by her leader's words, she stood aimlessly while her muddled brain frantically tried to explain this sudden turn of events. Her fear of retribution for her actions melted away, only to be replaced with a profound disbelief at what she was hearing.
Edmund, on the other hand, did not hesitate. Gleefully, he leapt to the far left rune circle, which was surrounded by ruby colored crystals of various sizes. He eyed his comrades impatiently while rolling his dark furred claws together greedily. Alexander complied, opting to teleport to his rune circle on the far right in a gust of wind. Felicia followed suit, dragging Terran along by the hand before squeezing tightly and letting go to step inside her own rune circle beside Edmund's.

Terran did not quite know what led her to step into her own rune circle adorned with amber crystals. What was she expecting to happen? Should she feel overjoyed about this? Or dread for what dangers were surely to be in store?

Cho'gall had begun speaking again, instructing the hooded cultists to begin the ritual, but Terran was too distracted to catch his words. The cultists' chanting grew louder with the runes humming in response. Terran felt a rush of warmth enter her body. The natural energies were familiar, but more raw and chaotic than what she was accustomed to. Her darkness uncoiled itself, graciously accepting the surge of magic along with her.

“Unbreakable...” she whispered wistfully, echoing the darkness' words. The flow of magic was easing her nerves.

A new name. A new body. A new life? Truthfully, Terran did not hate how things were, she only hated how things used to be. The scars from her past were deep and festering, waiting for the opportune moment to burst forth onto her unstable psyche. Was this a chance to leave all of that behind?

She looked to her left. Alexander's shawl rippled violently against the tangible flow of elemental magic. His lightning-blue eyes bore deeply into hers and he nodded affirmatively. On her right, Edmund licked his gleaming fangs hungrily. She had hardly ever seen him this excited, except before he committed a particularly violent and brutal kill. Finally, she met Felicia's warm and opalescent gaze. The Draenei gave Terran her usual reassuring smile. She smiled softly in return and closed her eyes, allowing the earth's elemental energies to overtake her body.

This was her chance. A chance to forget all of her past pain and torture, to render her fears and agony as nothing more than a distant, fleeting memory. To forge a new future, together, with Felicia, Edmund, Alexander, and even her dark passenger. Her new family.

Yes, with them, she would be unbreakable.