Character: Yara the Half-Troll, former lover and personal assassin of Sargeras-possessed Anduin
The Black Morass. It’s quite an apt name. It’s dark and gloomy and although it may not literally black it makes you feel black. You know what I mean. The atmosphere, the smell… it makes you think of death. It is rather fitting to my current state of mind. I know what you gonna say, I should seek out happiness right now but… just… not now. You have no idea how I feel. You can’t have any idea how I feel, sista. You did not go through what I did. You did not find out… things about people you loved, things that made you regret you ever loved them. Things that made you regret you did what you did for them. Things that made you regret that you were even alive. Things that make you think that perhaps if you were never born, things would have been different. Better for everyone involved. Before you think I just feeling depressed, listen carefully. Yes, I am depressed. But I have good reasons.
You remember what I told you of my sweet prince. My good, sweet prince. I loved him very much. For a short time he made me feel better. He had a way with words that made you forget the whole world outside the room you were in. He spoke his way around every problem. I knew I could not be his bride, I could not be his queen, but I did not care. I just understood that he could never marry me but he always said he will always love me. Whoever was married to him would be just a tool to produce heirs, he said. I was his only true love, he said. And… he did not betray me, no. It was far worse. You see, from the moment I met him there was an aura of darkness around him. An aura I liked. He was mysterious, powerful, handsome… just my type, as you always said. But I could never suspect what that darkness meant, what he really was.
He was the Destroyer of Worlds. The Dark Titan. Yes, it was Sargeras in human form.
You are now probably thinking it’s a joke, or I went completely insane. But I assure you, I did not. One day, travellers came from the north. Turalyon, the Abbot of Northshire and Uther, a knight of Lordaeron. They were very concerned. They would not speak to anyone about what they found out but they had urgent matter to talk about to King Varian. So I did what I do best, other than killing. I hid in the shadows and listened. And the words that came out of their mouths made no sense. They spoke of Sargeras, of a great demon who possessed my sweet prince. Those venomous toads, I thought, how could they slander my prince such. So I left and went straight to him.
I faced him and told him what they told King Varian. But I did not say what I thought. I simply said what they said. And then the oddest thing happened. He laughed. He laughed like no man or troll should, with a voice straight from the depths of the Twisting Nether. He laughed and looked at me and spoke with a voice I did not know. “So you know,” he said, “I hope that does not change anything between us.” And he told what I did not think he would ever do. He told me to kill his father before he could believe strange travellers. I could not believe my ears. I screamed and ran. He did not follow. At least not outright.
I hid in a corner and cried. I could not believe that could actually be true. That the man I loved so much, the man I thought loved me, could be a monster. The greatest monster that ever lived. And when I was there, that abbot approached me. He kneeled next to me and asked me if I need any help with the softest, gentlest voice I ever heard. When I looked at him, I knew he was the man who revealed that my prince is a demon. But I couldn’t help but listen to his voice and tell him what he wanted to know. He offered to help me.
Next day we all came together to the king, with my prince and his mother standing at Varian’s sides. Turalyon called my testimony and I told them everything. I told them how he promised me his unending love, and how when confronted with his true nature he freely admitted it. And at that moment I still hoped he would be lost, confused. That he would not know what to say. But no.
“You treacherous troll whelp,” he yelled in that inhuman voice, “I should have never let you by my side”. All my doubt was shattered at that moment. “I shouldn’t have listened to this young body and just killed you for the threat you truly were.” The king was as shattered as I was. He grabbed his son and started calling him to calm down. He still could not believe his son was the Destroyer of Worlds. He kept shouting “tell me, please, Anduin, tell me that isn’t true”. But Sargeras knew he was unmasked at last and simply threw Varian with his full force against a wall. I heard a snap, one I heard many times from my prince’s enemies – the king died on the spot.
But something happened. Something broke and my prince, the man who loved me, was still underneath the demon. When he saw his father die, the demon lost control for a moment. The prince’s eyes opened as wide as they could and he could simply yell “no”. But Uther could not risk it. He could not risk that Sargeras would take control once more in a moment. The knight ran forward and dove his sword right through my prince’s heart. His eyes… his eyes at that moment. I will never forget that sight. I killed dozens, and saw them look at me with surprise or defiance… but nothing matched that sight. The sheer terror of a life he could have had slipping away… and in his last moments, he grabbed Uther by the sleeve and said “I forgive you”.
I ran and his but Turalyon found me again. He tried to console me but there were no words that could make me feel better. I would not want to hear anyone anymore, not even the abbot’s soft, calm voice. He spoke to me how a traveler from a different timeline revealed to them Anduin’s true face, and how Sargeras once used the Guardian of Tirisfal’s womb to transfer himself to a new host. He asked me questions I did not wish to answer to anyone but my prince. So I ran again, but this time far from Stormwind, far from the intrigues and magic that shattered me.
And as I now sit on this swamp, I contemplate the very meaning of my life. The shamans of our tribe say there is a Storyteller, the single over-god, ancestor of all that is, who creates the world by telling its story. Then what was my point in that story? To be used by a demon? To be loved by a man not in control of his actions? To be a catalyst for a fall of a great evil, without regard for my own suffering? What kind of god would do that? Perhaps one that does not care for our good, one who only cares to tell a good story.
I wonder, sista, if Turalyon was right. That Sargeras can use a woman’s womb to take a new host. If a child he would have with me would be Anduin’s child or Sargeras’s child. I wonder, because… I have to tell you something.
Next time: Lord of Bones