Diary of a dead man (first entry part one)

Guilty Until Proven Innocent
--------------------------------
Fallen…

Broken…

Simply dissolved into an incomplete strain, Cracked and disfigured…

With Distance, I become one with the darkness…

With remorse, I receive my punishment…

And with no hate…

I weaken…

The ancient mantra of the forgotten shadow burned in my head like a branding iron in the side of a starving bull. I could feel the air hit my rotting and dry skin like serrated knives on paper and though I wished to cry out in a mixture of agony and rage, the pain that gripped my body kept me from doing so…

What happened?

How did I get here?

Where ‘was’ here?

The questions mixed into the mantra like an off key chorus in hell’s symphony and as I opened my burning eyes I soon realized half of those questions I’d have rather not known. Only one eye opened completely where as the other simply stung like a nest of hornets as I attempted to pry it. Glancing around the room did not give me the answer to where I was per se, as much as it gave me the answer of ‘to whom do I have the pleasure of company?’ As I glanced up from my broken and ichor drenched body, I glared into the empty eyes of two of my former comrades from back in my days as an Apothecary and Neonate to the Forgotten Shadow…

I’d hoped the reunion would be a happy one, but taking into consideration the barbed chain one of my oppressors brandished and the twisted grin upon the rotting face of the other, doubts began to take me…

My only working eye took hold of as much of my figure as it could have in those few moments, much as I probably would have preferred it have not. The entire right side of my torso from the edge of my collar bone had been smashed against the cold iron of the wall behind me and not far from my right I could see what was left of my problem arm as it hung impaled to a wooden pillar by the very Kris I, on many occasion, carried on my side. On the one hand, never again would the limb give trouble in times awkward but in that respect, as it sat against the wall seemingly beaten off just above the elbow and hacked to a nearly un distinguishable pulp, it looked as if it would very well never find it’s way on my decaying body again…

It did not take long for the splitting pain to finally come to a bearable point and not long after that, my eyes finally began to focus within an environment I quickly realized I knew too well. I sat broken in a courtroom… a stage if you will that I had sit before many a time to watch and assist in the creation of an empire. Only this time I sat here not as a hand in the makings of something bigger, but rather at a trial…

My trial…

It did not take me long to finally come to the conclusion of where I was, I would have been a fool if it had. The banners, my handlers, the dozens upon dozen of priests that glared at me from the feet of their tables as blood drenched vials and papers lie scattered before them. My eye could not be blamed if it had shot around sporadically at the numberless mass of shadow priests and Afflictionists that packed the hall but rather, I found myself gazing at the center seat of the apparent council that were to be my judicators into the very eyes of a man I had never met, yet knew far too well. The bloody Cardinal of the Forgotten Shadow in the flesh, Myer Dra’shäkk stared upon my person with an almost unholy rage.

I sat within the hall of Judgment; quite possibly in the same Monistary I received my priesthood within…

“Well well…” I managed to let out through a staggering cough as I grinned at the Cardinal’s glare, “All this audience for little old me? I’d tap dance up here for you but I’m afraid your goons have ta-”

Much as I’d love to personally spit in my handler’s faces, my retort was cut short quickly as two of the arch bishops to each side of the unholy figurehead nodded at my two ex comrades that held me upon this alter. Causing the pair to drive a poorly made boot into my solar plexus…

You’d be surprised how fast two inches of leather can silence you…

“Neonate Temius Locket, former Ardo Nix of the Nixous bloodline,” the Cardinal boomed from beneath his blood red hood that seemed to drown out the slightest glimpse one might catch of the face beneath. “Do you know why you are here?”

Though the boot before successfully ripped my concentration from my prior speech, I’ll be damned if for a moment I lost the trademark grin that sat locked upon my aged face. “If it’s about those Neonates I used to cheat out of Tithes during apprenticeship I’ll be sure to start writing my ‘thank you’ note-”

Once again, my retort was quickly silenced, this time with the spiked chain that glinted in the hands of my former comrade of the apothicarium…

“You are here for Heresy Forsaken.” The cloaked Zealot boomed once more from beneath his hood, “For conduct unfitting of the ‘priest’ title and for direct action against the will of the Shadow… How do you plead?”

“I don’t…”

If my smiling demeanor swayed any during my mock trail, it was here. Yet even under the wall of shadow that separated the Cardinal’s face from the outside world, I could have sworn I felt a grin emanate from the unholy figure.

“You know the circumstances of which I speak do you not?” the figurehead replied after a slight pause of time that very well might have held a chuckle.

Of course I knew… It’s not like I wasn’t expecting this moment. Not more than a few days ago a Neonate of the Shadow came into my bar and I could not so much as look the bag of bones in the eye, much less speak to him on the topic of a Dogma I have followed for decades. Still… I couldn’t pass up such a blatant opportunity at being in contempt. “Enlighten me…” I replied as I sluggishly lifted my head above my shattered shoulder.

The cardinal paused for a moment much like he did before, though rather than out of amusement like the last; this one seemed more out of annoyance. The cloaked figure seemed to glare at me for not more than a few seconds before he slowly picked himself from his overly ornate chair and began to pace along the chairs of the other councilors. “I will not allow you to blaspheme this court priest…” he began as his booming voice took an edge that caused what was left of my body to quiver, “…thus rather than allow you to carry on this childish insult match I will spell it out for you. What is the base concept of the Forgotten Shadow?”

I could have easily spoken against the man, but it was clearly visible that it would have not only made things clearly worse but also would not have given me any ground to which I could hold my rapidly depleting credibility. I was always fond of quitting while one was ahead. “Natural Selection,” I replied, my tone returning to that of being firm rather than sarcastic, “The strong rule over the weak, Power is what moves the rock before you and though one may try to decorate it into place, all that ends up happening is a fancy paint job.”

“Yet despite this…” He cut in as he continued to pace along the backs of the chamber’s seats, “You specifically abandoned the post we gave you as Ambassador of the Apothicarium to lead the capital city of Silvermoon to fall under it’s own poor construction giving the Forsaken the ability to Usurp it’s influence in the horde. More to the point you took a direct hand in rebuilding the shattered nation and even placed yourself in their inner cabinet… Why?”

My grin widened slightly as the Cardinal posed the question; I suppose I could have given a number of meaningless answers that he’d have rather gnawed his own foot off than listen to but in the end; only one really came to mind. “Seemed like a good idea at the time…” I replied with a grin before my handler’s sent another lash into my stomach.

“A good idea at the time?!” Dra’shäkk bellowed as the light from his eyes burned its way through the veil of shadows around his face, “I grow tired of these games Magistrate… I asked you a question and I demand you answer it to this court before we rip that tongue from where it dangles!”

I grinned at the figurehead’s sharpened tone… how could I not? I had just gotten under the skin of one of the most powerful men in Azeroth and I was enjoying every minute of it. I chuckled slightly through another fit of staggering coughs and slowly picked my head up once again. “Your orders were to place myself in a position of trust within the nation’s governmental system, and then guide it on a path of growth that would be beneficial to that of the Horde-”

“No Heretic, to that beneficial of the Forgotten Shadow!” The figurehead cut in before the word had been completed. His tone clearly brought to a yell as he glared at my person.

“To do otherwise would be to abandon duty…”

“Duty is forbidden!” He snapped as he continued to pace against the many filled chairs before me, “The shadow is what gave you your unlife and thus the Shadow and no one else is who you bow before!”

I attempted to reply, but even such was quickly cut off. “The Shadow serves the will of the Horde-”

“The Shadow serves no one!” The Cardinal screamed at my person and I could see the shadows around him begin to materialize. Shaping twisted plooms of rage around his being as his burning eyes sat locked upon me. “None overlooks it! Not the Light, not the nether and sure as hell not the damnable puppets of the Horde!”

I glared at the red clad Zealot and every nerve in my body begged to strike the hooded figure as if he were some giant bull’s-eye that my own shadows longed to lash out at. I did not realize how loose the control of my tongue was at that point, because my tongue seemed to act on its own accord. If my hand did not strike out in an act of war, my voice made up for it.

“Then the Shadow is the one guilty of Heresy…”